


I'm No Cinderella

by perclexed



Series: Happy Highways Where I Went [2]
Category: Lewis (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Family, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, darcy lewis is my spirit animal, impossibly awesome interdimensional space golden retriever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perclexed/pseuds/perclexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis makes an interesting discovery and heads up to Oxford to share her findings with Robbie Lewis & James Hathaway.  It's an interesting visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Set a very short while after “Not More Fucking Elves”. It’s unlikely that this will make sense if you haven’t already read that story.
> 
> Thanks as always to medie, Tehomet, Tinzelda & Ladeedahlia for their help with this. They are full of awesome, and remaining mistakes are totally the author's fault.

It’s only been a few days since the Convergence, and Darcy’s at the end of her rope. They’ve all been through the wringer with SHIELD, though thankfully the organization is acting as a filter and passing “need to know” info off to the other interested parties. She hates that she’s thankful to the jack-booted thugs for making it easier than it could be on all of them, but she’s especially thankful on behalf of Jane.

Erik is so relieved by Thor’s confirmation of Loki’s death that he doesn’t mind answering the same questions over and over again. He’s in his element with the science geeks, and seems perfectly happy to disappear into the bowels of whichever building SHIELD’s geeks have commandeered, only to stumble back into the flat extremely late and night for a few hours sleep. Come dawn, he rises early and heads right back out again with barely a word to anyone.

Thor had returned yesterday, and he and Jane had promptly disappeared into her bedroom. Erik, Ian, and Darcy escaped the flat shortly after that, as the newly reunited pair weren’t exactly quiet about their joy. And their sex. So much sex. Darcy actually went over to Jane’s mom’s/a.k.a. the lab to try to sleep that night, because there was no way anyone was sleeping through all that. Being alone might be worse, though, because she doesn’t actually get much sleep. She keeps startling awake with nightmares. She admits to herself that she’s actually kind of scared to try to go back to sleep, so she settles into an uneasy doze until the sun rises. 

She’s not actually sure where Erik or Ian went last night. Ian has been weird since Greenwich. He’s actually not been around all that much as Jane’s guarding the machines and data produced by the event like a dragon over a particularly weird hoard, and refusing to let anyone but Erik touch anything. Darcy finally got sick of Ian’s waffling about whether or not to be there and told him she’d call him when he was needed again. She putters about the flat, cleaning and straightening things that they left in disarray once they’d discovered where the Convergence was going to take place. She ponders what to do about her intern as she locks up at Jane’s mom’s and heads towards the nearest Tube station. It was just a couple of “oh my god we’re still alive!” kisses. It’s not like she proposed. Wait, she didn’t propose in the middle of all that out of relief, right? Reviewing what she remembers of the day just makes her anxious and upset, so she gives it up as lost and figures there’s just no way. And even if she had, she’ll let him down gently and easily if he brings it up.

Wait a second. Dragon Jane and her scientific equipment cache. Oh, god. She should ask Thor if there are actually dragons. There were elves after all. Thor himself seemed mythical until just a couple of years ago. What else is lurking out there waiting to be reintroduced to Midgard? Darcy shivers at the thought and hugs herself more tightly.

She tries Jane’s cell as she’s walking from the Underground station closest to Erik’s place. The last thing she wants to do is walk in on them if they’re still enthusiastically “reuniting” all over the countertops in the kitchen. Or on the couch. Or the coffee table, in the shower…. Basically, she’s not going in there if they’re still busy getting busy. Luckily they seem to have gotten the worst of it out of their systems, at least for now, and she’s cleared to go up when she gets there.

“Thank you, Steven, but I believe we will remain in London for some time.” Thor is on the phone when she arrives, but he tucks it into one shoulder and holds out both arms to her in welcome. “I would not leave my Lady Jane if it’s at all possible.” Darcy sort of crumples into Thor, relieved all out of proportion to his simple gesture. He feels so solid, so safe that she can’t help it when tears spring to her eyes and she squeezes as much of him as she can, thankful that he’s here once more. “Or Darcy and Erik. They are my friends as well.” This statement is punctuated with a gentle tightening of his arms around her. “I would also like to try to assist where I may be allowed during the repair and rebuilding.”

Maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t have to be strong for anyone this time that has her so off balance. Last time, Jane was determined to immediately jump back into her work, rebuilding what had been lost to SHIELD. Even after the organization returned some of Jane’s research and equipment, there had been a significant amount missing, and Darcy had thrown herself into helping her friend and boss. This time, though, it only took two days instead of two years for Thor to return, and Jane’s general aura of happiness was so bright and powerful it could probably power the Bifrost all on its own. Darcy’s absolutely thrilled for her boss and for Thor, especially after hearing the cost to him during the battles up to the Convergence.

Doesn’t change the fact that now Darcy herself is at loose ends with plenty of time on her hands. Way too much time to think, and that’s kind of the last thing she wants.

She sniffles a bit and releases Thor to run a hand under her eyes. She keeps her head down as she heads to the kitchen, her appetite finally waking up for the day, and her stomach growling as she goes to start the coffee maker. Thor is still talking, and he’s been trying to keep his voice down but it carries in the quiet of the flat. She can easily hear his side of the conversation, and he’s reassuring someone named Banner that he will ask Jane to forward as much of her research as she is willing to part with as soon as she wakes. “Yes, Friend Stark, I will ensure that you are sent a copy as well.”

Wait, what?

Darcy doesn’t even try to keep from hollering, “Is that Stark? Tony Stark? Your fellow Avenger? Could you ask Mr. Billion Dollar Robot Suit for some money please because I am sick to death of trying to save the universe on a diet of ramen noodles and cold cereal? And oh my god are we _out of coffee_?! Fuck. My. LIFE. I can’t function without coffee!” she wailed, only slightly exaggerating the drama. Because honestly. Coffee. She levels a finger at Thor, who is doing his best impression of a surprised owl at her outburst. “New England may run on Dunkin', Thor, but Team Rainbow Bridge runs on coffee. And we are OUT OF COFFEE. And I’m about out of money.” 

Thor is moderately embarrassed by her outburst, and is murmuring apologies into the phone, but she misses whatever excuse he comes up with because she’s too busy grabbing her wallet, pulling on a coat and storming out into the inhospitable day to find the nearest grocery. They need coffee beans and the few other items she can manage to get with the cash in her wallet.

Money is becoming a serious concern. The last bit of Jane’s funding, jealously guarded and doled out with ruthless control, has been exhausted. Darcy’s honestly worried about whether they’ll be stranded in London. She’s been exploring every possible avenue for research grants or fellowships, but the applications will take time to work their way through the system. She’s not even sure whatever visas they’re in the country on will allow for her to pick up some work from one of the local universities to at least keep them fed for the next little while.

But apparently Stark heard her through the phone because later that day a very serious security guard-slash-courier knocks on the door and after verifying her identity, hands over a goodie box filled with the most amazing things. Thor, after confirming that there is no danger, retreats to Jane’s bedroom where she’s once again asleep. Darcy’s beginning to get a little concerned about Jane, but Thor reassures her that he spoke with the healers who saw her during her visit to Asgard. They think it will take Jane some time to fully recover from being possessed by the Aether, and he’s brought a number of medicines back with him to help ease her convalescence. Those same remedies also tend to put her to sleep, though Darcy’s sure that all the sex they’re indulging in when Jane is awake is probably burning plenty of energy as well. She makes a note to have Thor ask Stark or whoever that Banner guy is back in New York for a nice Earth medical diagnosis to go along with the Asgardian healer’s assessment.

Returning her attention to the mystery box, she’s delighted with every item she removes from it. Like a SHIELD issued ID for Thor with his title and realm of origin, as well as a New York State driver’s license issued in the name of “Donald Blake”. She’s not entirely sure if it’s real or if it’s an excellent fake made up by Stark, but either way she feels better about having some kind of official Midgardian issued documentation for her favorite alien. She makes a note to ask Stark to either create or obtain similar documents for Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. It’s only a matter of time before they follow Thor down the Bifrost to Midgard, though hopefully under less fraught circumstances.

But even better? The box includes an enormous stack of cash, and a number of credit cards in each of their names. So much cash that she’s tempted to spread it out all over the floor and roll around in it like Demi Moore in Indecent Proposal. Hell, she’d spend a night with Stark for this, no sweat. But there’s also a note addressed to Darcy, and after she takes a break from her ecstatic (and possibly slightly demented) victory dance around the living room, she flops, breathless, onto the couch to take a look.

_Ms. Lewis,_

_I understand that you’re filling an administrative capacity for Doctors Foster and Selvig, in addition to the other numerous duties that I imagine go along with the care and feeding of two genius scientists. I hope you will forgive the impertinence, but I’ve taken the liberty of setting up accounts (linked to Tony) for all of you to draw on. Having been the personal assistant for a genius scientist for many years, I’m aware of just how many mundane things you’re likely to be taking care of for your colleagues. Particularly when they’re ‘saving the universe’. You have my sympathies and my support. I imagine just keeping Thor fed will prove to be a challenge without some assistance. He stayed in the tower briefly after the Battle of Midtown and put an impressive dent in our food stores._

_Please do not worry about the funds behind these accounts. Tony spends more in one weekend in Monte Carlo than I imagine any of you are likely to over an entire year. As long as you don’t build an observatory in a remote location, or purchase a fleet of planes, you should never have to worry about the well running dry. If you need real estate, please email your requirements and I can work with our local contacts to find a suitable space. And if for some reason you do need to build an observatory, or purchase a fleet of planes, please call me first and we’ll see what we can work out. If nothing else SI’s contracts are likely to get you serious discounts on any work required. Even more likely, Tony will get wind of it and demand to know why you didn’t ask him to help design or build it himself, which would take the funding question right off the table. Otherwise, there are no restrictions on purchases, or for that matter a purchase limit._

_Being “Avengers adjacent” can occasionally make you a target. As I am sure you know, or have at least suspected, Doctor Foster’s trip to Tromsø was not planned nor was it purely for scientific reasons. Loki was well aware of Doctor Foster’s importance to Thor, and SHIELD took the necessary steps to get her and you to as safe a place as possible on such short notice._

_(I’m not actually supposed to know any of this, but Tony and I have few secrets from one another at this point.)_

_I will admit that this is not done entirely out of a sense of philanthropy or altruism. I’ll be perfectly honest with you - I would feel better if everyone attached to an Avenger were in the greater New York area for their own safety. Doctor Foster has been in the wind for some time, though I know she has her reasons. Should you or she ever feel the need to settle, or even just need a safe place to stay, please know that there is a place at Stark Industries for both or all of you. You would be welcome additions to our Research and Development department, or as Tony insists on calling it, “Candyland”._

_If for any reason you need to reach me, you can do so at the address and numbers listed below. If you fail to reach me, and you find yourself in an emergency, please speak the code “JARVIS Triple-D Black Lace” into the receiver. This will connect you to someone who can help immediately if I am not available. And please accept my apologies - Tony set up the code after seeing your image in SHIELD’s files._

_Best of luck to you,_

_Virginia Potts_  
CEO  
Stark Industries 

Darcy sits back on the couch and slowly exhales. She closes her eyes as a few grateful tears escape despite her best efforts. It’s been so very long since they’d had any kind of safety net, and she is unprepared for how relieved she feels as one of her heaviest concerns in the wake of the Convergence is lifted with a few kind words and a few flimsy pieces of plastic from Pepper Potts. 

“Pepper Potts knows who I am. What even is my life.”

Though there are a number of shiny new tablets and assorted electronics in her goodie box, and her fingers are itching to power one up and take it for a spin, she reaches for her trusty laptop and immediately begins composing an email.

_Dear Ms. Potts,_

_Forget Candyland! I think I know how Charlie felt when he found the golden ticket to the Chocolate Factory. Jane would laugh at me saying this, but I am so very grateful and relieved at your and Mr. Stark’s generosity._

_You’ve made my life a million times easier with your kind gesture. I find myself almost completely without the words to thank you, and believe me, anyone who’s met me would find that quite unlikely. But it’s true._

_Thank you, Ms. Potts. From the bottom of my overflowing heart (and my empty stomach)._

_Very best regards,  
Darcy Lewis_

She sets her laptop aside and gives in to the impulse to explore the new tech. She’s thoroughly enjoying reviewing the specs on the Stark tablet when her phone lights up with an unfamiliar number.

“Yo.”

“Ms. Lewis?”

“That’s me.”

“Pepper Potts.”

“Oh wow. I, uh, I really wasn’t expecting a call from the CEO of Stark Industries.” Darcy winces at her own babbling and takes a deep breath. “What can I do for you Ms. Potts?”

“Don’t be silly, call me Pepper. Did you receive the package okay? I figured you must have, given your email, but I wanted to call to be sure.”

Darcy can’t believe how warm and, well, normal Pepper sounds.

“Thanks, I think.” The voice in her ear is very dry. Oh shit, she’s said that last bit out loud.

“Oh god I’m so sorry. I sort of have this tendency to just blurt shit out. Jane sometimes calls me ‘No Filter Girl’.” Darcy’s glad no one is around right now, because she’s sure her face resembles a tomato. She’s actually blushing that hard. It’s one thing to not care what random people think about her, but contrary to what Jane believes, there are actually a few people in the world that she looks up to and would like to not make an ass of herself in front of. Pepper Potts is on that short list and she’s already blown it.

“I’ve been working with Tony for so many years now it barely registers. Don’t give it a moment’s thought. I’d rather get to know the real Darcy anyway.”

“See, that’s what I don’t get. Why on earth did you call to talk to me?” Darcy winces, but it’s at least the honest truth.

She can hear the smile in Pepper’s voice. “Well, Thor didn’t spend much time in the tower after the Battle of New York, but he was here for a bit. He talked a lot about his adventures with you and Jane and Erik in New Mexico. He was very, very relieved that SHIELD got you out of the way and to a safe place so he could concentrate on stopping Loki.” She sighs. “I just wish there had been time to bring both of you back before he had to leave for Asgard again. He was quite upset that he wasn’t going to be able to see either of you.”

“Fucking Loki.” Darcy can’t help it. She hisses every time his name is mentioned, if Thor isn’t in the room. “Did he tell you all back in New York what went down before the fun times in Greenwich?”

Pepper sobers. “He did. Give him a hug from me when you see him next? I don’t have any trips planned to Europe for the next little bit or I’d make room in the schedule to swing by and see you all personally.”

Who knew someone who’s willingly worked with and dated Stark for this long could be this nice? “I’ll be sure to do that. He went in to check on Jane a little bit ago, and is probably cuddled up to her right now, napping. Or thinking deep, Asgardian thoughts. Maybe contemplating where we all go from here. I sure as hell have no idea.”

“Do you mind if we all work on that with your team? I know he’s expressed a desire to stay in the area and help rebuild. I’m working with Tony to coordinate our resources in the area to assist as well. It’s not every day someone wrecks a World Heritage site, and it would be a damn shame if they weren’t able to rebuild it. Not that I have any worries about that. If it managed to survive mostly intact during the Blitz, I think they can manage this.”

“I think it helps that Malekith’s ship went with him back to his realm. That would’ve been a bitch to pick up after.” Her breath catches and her voice trails off as she remembers the sight of the ship falling towards them. She doesn’t realize she’s gasping for air until she can hear Pepper calling her name, ever louder and with more concern.

“I’m fine. I’m _fine_.” Maybe if Darcy says it often enough it’ll be true?

“Oh honey, you’re really not. And that’s totally normal.” Soothing. Pepper’s voice is very soothing and she concentrates on that and not the remembered sound of groaning metal and shattering stone. “I don’t know if you remember, but Tony was attacked not long ago. I got caught up in that thanks to the main bad guy, and it’s a long, long story but the short version? It sucks right now. It sucks hard. But it will get better. Believe me when I say that it will get better, and we will do what we can to help you.”

Darcy’s white knuckled grip on the phone eases as she brings her breathing back under control. “Good to know. I mean, it wasn’t fun after the Destroyer and New Mexico. But this? This was like who new levels of not good. I think we can bump this one up a few notches right past ‘very bad’ to ‘holy shit I’m going to need new underwear’ level of not good.” She takes some comfort in Pepper’s laughter. If she’s still got the ability to make people laugh, it can’t all be bad, right?

“It’s only been a few days. You need to be kind to yourself and take some time. Pamper yourself. That’s part of why I sent that package. Want the names of some really swanky spas? Got a favorite type of food? I bet we can find some amazing restaurants you haven’t been to yet.”

“Well, that’s not going to be hard. We haven’t had the budget for anything but cereal and soup for a while.” Darcy sighs happily at the idea of a sushi splurge. “My wardrobe could use some updates too. How are you with clothes?”

She and Pepper spend the next little while chatting about a whole lot of small things. Inconsequential when you’ve just saved the universe, but it’s the little things that are saving her sanity right now. She gets a whole list of restaurant recommendations, a veritable menu of things to try at a number of different spas, and tips on where to find quirky, vintage clothes and accessories because Darcy’s not really ready to embrace the idea of making an appointment with some of the great fashion houses per Pepper’s suggestion. “That’s all right,” Pepper says, not missing a beat. “When I do have time, if you’d like we can hit up Fashion Week.”

“What, here?”

“Or New York. Or Paris. Or wherever you want. It would be kind of fun to go with someone who actually wants to be there.” Huh. It sounds like Darcy isn’t the only one who could use a non-sciencey girlfriend.

“Actually, you’re right, I could use a new friend,” Pepper says.

Ah hell Darcy’s said all that out loud again. 

Pepper goes on. “I love my job. I love my relationships. I love the challenge, and yes, the power and responsibility. But they aren’t lying when they say it’s lonely at the top. I had a confidant, but he died in New York. And I thought I had a friend in Natalie, though of course that was Natasha infiltrating Stark Industries for SHIELD.” Whoa, hello bitterness. “I really like Natasha. But I’m not sure I can trust her.”

“And you feel like you can trust me? You haven’t even met me in person!” Darcy’s a little taken aback by all this.

“You’re right. But I’m a pretty good judge of people, and Darcy? You’re good people. You’re smart, you call it like you see it and you don’t back down. It’s a fairly rare quality in the company we keep. I know it’s part of why Thor is so taken with you. And our chat today only cements what I know about you. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know you better?” Pepper’s quiet for a moment. “And you’re kind. The SHIELD report on New Mexico mentions that you helped evacuate the pet store. Not a single other person on site would have thought about the animals that were in danger as well.”

Darcy snorts. “Well, it’s not like I could pick up a gun and battle the Destroyer. Everyone else had their hands full.”

“Yes, but you also helped evacuate the civilians. And you stayed. Your friends were in danger, and you stayed. Don’t sell yourself short. It takes a lot of courage to stay and fight. Or stay and not fight but help where you can.”

Geez, what was with everyone offering unsolicited pep talks? First Hathaway and Lewis, and now Pepper freakin’ Potts? Darcy wipes at her eyes impatiently again. “Just doing what needed to be done. It’s not courage. It’s just being too stubborn to know better.”

“I disagree, but we can talk about it again later.”

“How about never? Is never good for you?” Darcy’s voice is tart, but Pepper laughs anyway.

Darcy’s not sure where the impulse comes from, but she blurts it out anyway. “Hey, not to derail the singing of my praises thing we’ve got going on here, but do you know anyone who can help me do some genealogical research? I mean, I could probably have Thor ask Heimdall, he of the all seeing eyes, but this is such a small thing and kind of silly. It’s hardly something that’s going to change the course of history. Know what I mean?”

“I doubt it’s silly, and of course. I think I know someone who can help. What did you need?”

Darcy exhales. “During the Convergence, we met a pair of cops from Oxford, and one of them shares my last name. Now, normally I wouldn’t think anything of it. I mean, Lewis is a common enough surname, right? But there’s something about this guy….” She trails off briefly. “Have you ever just had a feeling about something?”

“I’ve made Stark Industries hundreds of millions of dollars based on gut instinct and a few ‘just a feeling’s once in a while.” Pepper’s voice is very dry even through the transatlantic connection. “Were you not just here for the last five minutes of this phone call? Also I’m in a relationship with Tony Stark. I’m pretty used to strange hunches at this point.”

Darcy smiles, faintly. Pepper’s a bit of an odd duck, but she thinks they’ll get along splendidly. “I dunno. Maybe it’s this guy’s eyes. They were so kind. Or maybe he looks like someone in an old family photo album. You know what I mean?”

She can hear Pepper’s smile. “I do. And I know just the person. Let me transfer you to JARVIS. He’s the best, um, person to assist.”

“Thank you Pepper. For everything. I mean it.” Quite without her permission, Darcy’s voice wobbles dangerously.

Pepper’s voice sobers. “I know we don’t know each other, Darcy, but you’ve been at the epicenter of two extraordinary events. Having been at a few myself, I know that this isn’t something that you’re just going to bounce back from immediately. It was hard enough for me with all the resources at my disposal. Let me help you, okay?” The line goes quiet for a long moment. “You know Phil had a lot of really good things to say about you.”

Darcy snorts, wetly. “Agent iPod Thief? You’re kidding.”

“That’s him. He was impressed by the way you handled yourself in New Mexico. We’re both excellent talent spotters, and we had a friendly wager going on whether we could pry you away from Doctor Foster. He thought, given enough time, he could bring you over to SHIELD. I was going to try to convince you to join either our Congressional Liaison or International Relations teams.”

“Holy shitballs,” Darcy blurts. She can’t help it. Never in a million years did she expect to be hearing from the CEO of Stark fucking Industries that she, Darcy Lewis, was on Potts’ personal talent scouting list. Pepper’s delighted laughter tickles her ear.

“Yeah, well. Just know that you have options if you decide the science gig isn’t your thing. If you want I can forward an informational package?”

Darcy hesitates. “Can we put a hold on that for now? I don’t…I don’t want to leave Jane. Not now. Not with everything…,” she trails off miserably.

“I understand. Take care of yourself and your friends, all right Darcy? We’ll check in after a few days. Let Thor settle in. JARVIS?”

“Yes Ms. Potts?”

The dry, cultured tone is very soothing. “Mind helping Darcy with some research?”

“It would be my pleasure. Ms. Lewis, how may I assist?”

“Darcy, I’ll sign off for now. But I’ll be in touch. Oh, one last thing. You’re probably going to have a shadow for the next week or so. If you want he can introduce himself, but he’s also very unobtrusive and can and will basically stay out of sight and out of mind. He’ll be there just in case there are any issues. I think you’ve met him before. He’s a SHIELD agent, but Avengers affiliated.”

Darcy groans. “Please tell me you aren’t having Hawkeye follow me around.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that he’s set up across the street from you right now and that he says your taste in snacks could use some improvement.” Ah, there’s the sass she’d expect from someone dating Tony Snark himself.

“Is that really necessary?” She stills. “Have there been threats or something? Does Thor know?”

“Oh honey no. No threats. Not at all. And Thor is the one who asked for protection for you. This is just a preventative sort of thing. There are always parties who try to take advantage of the chaos that comes in the wake of a major event. While you’re with Thor we don’t anticipate any issues, but if you go out on your own there will be someone we trust nearby. Selvig has his own detail, but he’s usually buried in the depths of the SHIELD science department.”

“I probably don’t have much of a choice in this, do I?” It’s not a question, and Darcy sighs as a whole new set of worries settles over her shoulders.

“Sorry not sorry for keeping you safe.” Pepper’s voice has acquired a hint of steel, and Darcy’s reminded that the woman is the CEO of a Fortune 25 company. “Have a good night, okay? And go treat yourself to something amazing tomorrow. I’ll be checking the accounts activity and will know if you don’t.”

“Thanks, Pepper.” There’s a probably completely unnecessary click as Pepper leaves the line. “JARVIS?”

“Yes.”

“Right, well, nice to meet you. Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s entirely my pleasure, Ms. Lewis.”

“Please call me Darcy. People say Ms. Lewis and I look over my shoulder for my grandmother.”

A slight hesitation, and then an apologetic tone. “I’m afraid my protocols do not allow for that degree of familiarity.”

His protocols? Weird. “Well, can we compromise? How about Ms. Darcy, if you need to stick to a semblance of formality. Also, are you sure you’re up for this? I can’t imagine this is part of your job description, handling random non-Stark Industries related inquiries from random people.”

“You’d be surprised,” JARVIS says, dry humor shading his tone. “I do work for Mr. Stark after all.”

“Good point. Well, I’m positive that this is nothing so complicated as what Tony Stark can come up with.” Darcy’s interrupted by a huge yawn. “God, sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. I take it you wanted some research done?” 

“Yeah. There was this pair of cops that helped us during the thing? I just…I have this feeling about one of them. Robbie Lewis. According to his contact card, he’s a Detective Inspector with the Oxfordshire Police.” She goes on to give him what other information is on the card. “His partner is Detective Sergeant James Hathaway.”

“And what should I look for?” JARVIS inquires politely.

“Well, you have access to my SHIELD file, right? If it’s possible, I’d like to find out if there’s any sort of family connection between myself and the Detective Inspector.” Darcy exhales. “I know it’s a long shot, but do you think that’s enough information to go on?”

JARVIS sounds very efficient when he replies, “More than enough. I’ve already started a number of searches. Shall I compile them for you and send you an email in the morning, your time, with the results?”

“You can find something…” she yawns again. “Find something that quickly?” Darcy’s a little surprised, but she’s not sure why. The guy works for Stark, and he probably has his digital fingers in all kinds of pies he’s not supposed to know have been baked, let alone have access to.

“I’m sure I’ll have something for you in a few hours. Now, if you will forgive the observation, it sounds like you could use some rest.”

Now that he’s called her attention to it, Darcy realizes she’s absolutely exhausted. “Yeah, I think you’re right. OK, I’d appreciate whatever you can send. Email is fine. I think there’s a printer here somewhere if I need to print anything out.”

“Rest well Ms. Darcy. I’ve sent my contact information to your phone in case you have any additional questions.” 

Darcy manages to thank him with a mumble before she ends the call and sets her phone on the coffee table. She’s suddenly far too tired to get up, and just gives up, tipping over sideways into a pile of pillows in one corner of the couch, barely managing to drag the throw from the back of the couch over herself before she slips into the deepest sleep she’s managed since the Convergence.


	2. Chapter 2

The sweet, sweet smell of coffee wafting through the flat lures her out of slumber early the next morning. She’s just sitting up, pawing at the tangle her hair has become overnight, when the out-of-focus but smiling face of the thunder god appears in her blurry vision. Right, glasses. Thor hands her the mug of coffee, then reaches for her other hand and places her glasses on her palm. The sweetheart doesn’t even try to talk to her, having been exposed to pre-caffeinated Darcy back in New Mexico. He just places a smooch on her forehead and pads back to the kitchen where he’s apparently got breakfast well in hand.

It’s really good to have Thor back in town. 

She inhales deeply. The smell of frying bacon and toasting bread is wafting through the house, and Darcy feels a deep glow of contentment at being able to have her first cup of coffee without leaving her warm, comfortable nest on the couch. Who knew the demi-god who saved the Nine Realms could make a damn fine brew and breakfast? And how awesome was it that they had the supplies to make a real breakfast for once? Money might not buy happiness, but it does buy a hell of a lot of bacon, and fuck if it doesn’t make life a hell of a lot easier.

Darcy’s contemplating how she’s going to treat herself, per Pepper’s instructions, when Jane wanders in. She too appears to have just woken, but the astrophysicist is sporting even more impressive bed head. And a whole lot more love bites. Darcy smothers a grin in her mug before beckoning Jane over to where she sits. Thor silently appears with another mug of coffee for Jane, and refills Darcy’s mug while he’s there with the pot in his other hand before disappearing into the kitchen again.

The two women contemplate each other blearily. Darcy points at her own neck. And then at the other side of her neck in three places. And at her collarbone, various places on her trapezius muscles, and makes a very large circle with one finger behind her right ear. Jane’s blush grows with each new spot Darcy points out, but smiles and shrugs, adding a saucy wink after a moment. Darcy, impressed, nods and and offers a thumbs up, then holds out a fist. Jane bumps with her own, and they grin at each other in companionable silence while they savor their coffee.

After a bit, Darcy reaches over and hands Jane the note from Pepper. And then promptly rescues it when Jane chokes on her coffee and showers the paper with a fine Ethiopian brew.

“WHAT?!”

Darcy looks up in time to see Thor peering around the corner, but seeing no threat he goes back to plating up the food. “Yeah, she called last night to make sure I got the package she sent. Really, really nice lady. She wants to go shopping with me sometime.”

“Darcy! We can’t possibly accept this!”

“Uh, speak for yourself. I’m happy to live off of Tony Stark’s generosity for as long as he’s willing to grant me a black American Express card with my name on it. Oh, and that Palladium one too. And those four others that have my name on them.”

“I am not going to be bought by the likes of Tony Stark!” Jane’s working herself up into quite the froth at the mere idea of it.

“Jane. Do you know how much money we had left?”

“Well, no. I mean, you’ve been taking care of all that for us.” Jane looks a little uncomfortable now.

“Yes. Yes I have. And let me tell you, the situation was looking extremely grim. Which I have been trying to tell you for a couple of months now.” Darcy reaches over to wake up her laptop and log in to their bank account. She pulls up the appropriate information, then turns to show Jane the screen.

Her eyes wide, Jane scans through the info, and clicks around and through the last few months of expenditures. “But… why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“I DID!” Darcy doesn’t shriek in frustration, but it’s a close thing. “You weren’t listening. I’ve been ringing the damn alarm klaxon for months. MONTHS, Jane! Do you think I was applying for all those grants and research positions on your behalf for the fun of it?! Did you not notice how stressed out I was about buying the plane tickets to London in the first place?”

Jane sits back, troubled by the data in front of her. Darcy takes a deep, deep breath and reaches for the shredded remnants of her patience. “Maybe things would be different now. I mean, you and Erik saved the universe, right? That should guarantee some kind of funding. But I bet my ass that no one, not one agency, not one government, not a single private think tank, is going to give you the kind of flexibility that Tony Stark will. And you know what? Absolutely nowhere in that note does it say that this offer comes with any kind of strings.”

She receives an extremely skeptical look from Jane at this, but goes on. “Thor is, for better or for worse, an Avenger. You are extremely attached to Thor, and he to you. It’s in Stark’s best interests to keep Thor happy, so he can continue to help save all our asses. Simple logic dictates that means making sure you have the means to keep on doing what makes you happy, thereby keeping Thor happy and we all fucking win.

“Do you think SHIELD is going to do anything remotely like that? Without trying to use you as collateral to ensure his compliance? I say ‘trying’ because I seriously doubt that would go down very well with the guy making breakfast.” Darcy smiles as a loud, very localized flash of lightning and a big boom of thunder rattles the windows, nicely putting the punctuation on her very pointy point.

“Hard truths time, Jane. Stark is the very best option we’re likely to have at this juncture. I’d bet my pretty floral bonnet on it.”

Thor peers around the wall again. “But you are not wearing a bonnet, floral or otherwise?”

“Note to self, cue up Firefly for Thor at the earliest possible opportunity.” Darcy smiles at her friend. “I’ll explain later.” 

He nods amicably, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Come. The food is ready! It is time to break our fast. Let us eat now, and continue the discussion later.”

It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic. Darcy flails a bit, as there are a few more blankets over her than there were when she went to sleep last night, and they’ve been secured very firmly around her body. Jane rolls her eyes, but rescues Darcy’s mug before she can spill the rest of her coffee all over, and helps Darct free herself from the insidiously comfortable embrace of a nice fleecy cotton poly blend.

Breakfast is really tasty, and fairly quiet. Thor is busy eating, steadily working his way through a stack of toast, a mixing bowl’s worth of scrambled eggs with cheese, and the most enormous stack of bacon Darcy’s seen outside an all-you-can-eat buffet. Jane, for all her bright smiles and righteous indignation, is still obviously exhausted. Darcy herself is feeling better after finally getting a good night’s rest, but she aches all over. One night of sleep isn’t going magically fix everything. She volunteers to clean up while the other two go and relax, and then retires to the couch to check her email and explore the electronics she didn’t get to last night.

One eyebrow lifts as she sees an email waiting for her from JARVIS. Taking a deep breath, she dives into his report. 

It’s pretty fucking amazing. There’s a detailed family tree, nicely color coded so she can trace the relevant lineage. As Darcy suspected she is distantly related to one Robert Lewis of Oxford, England, United Kingdom. There’s a nice dossier on Lewis. Born and raised in the North-East of England, he had an undistinguished academic career and entered police training a few years after leaving school. As she reads about his family, she isn’t surprised to see that he’s a father. Given how well he handled her freak out in the back seat of their car after Greenwich, she figures he must’ve been a pretty good dad to his daughter and son. She is sad to read about the death of his wife a few years ago. A hit-and-run of all things. Damn shame.

Huh. She might finally have found someone who can explain cricket to her, if the information on his hobbies is at all correct. And she absolutely would not have pegged him as a Wagnerian. She figures there must be some kind of back story there, and makes a note to ask him about music.

Her eyebrows go up at the details of his years of service with the police force. She’s not an expert on what a serving officer’s record should look like, but the stats and list of commendations are impressive. She wonders how bad the aftermath of Valerie’s accident really was when she sees the notes from his secondment to the British Virgin Islands. It must have been pretty terrible to drive him away from the city where he’d lived for over fifteen years.

Darcy also grins over the dry comments from his latest superior officer. Reading between the lines, it would appear that he’s gotten a lot cheekier since he was paired with Hathaway, and is causing all kinds of headaches for someone named CS Innocent. The letters of complaint from a variety of muckity mucks attached to the University, and the responses to those complaints make her chuckle. Based on what little she knows of the man, she’d bet her new credit cards that he hadn’t written those responses. They edge right up to the line of insubordination and outright contempt without ever tipping over. Definitely fulfilling the letter of the law of apologies rather than the spirit of it. That has Hathaway written all over it, even if Lewis’ signature is the one on the letters.

Speaking of Hathaway, there’s a smaller file on him. It’s curiously matter of fact. Just the names of his family, with no mention of their current status. Excellent academic record, which she’s utterly unsurprised about, but she has no idea how someone with a degree in Theology ends up with the police force. She cocks her head at a single line about “Invitation Declined” with some sort of code. There’s a note from JARVIS on the side about… does that say MI-5?! Innnteresting. There’s a note about being on the rowing team at Cambridge, and she wonders if he keeps up with that now. There’s a link to a Soundcloud account for a band? He’s in a band? She opens a browser and pastes the link in to investigate later.

Hathaway’s record after joining the police is uneven and reports from his superiors are far from glowing until his timeline meets up with Lewis’. From there his evaluations are nothing short of stellar, with the occasional bump in the road one would expect of a junior officer still learning under the direction of a senior.

He’s also has a list of commendations that seems to grow by the year. A few appear to be awarded due to being injured in the line of duty? She checks over the medical section of Lewis’ report too. They’ve both been injured, a couple of times fairly seriously. Both have documented gunshot wounds, and Robbie’s got a couple of run ins with a knife listed. Concussions for both. Hathaway’s apparently been drugged against his will and admitted for smoke inhalation in the same visit. Plenty of cuts, contusions and assorted smaller hurts spread out over a few years. 

Darcy frowns. All the information listed is all in bare, matter of fact language, but she doesn’t much like the picture that she can draw in the blank spaces. Is this sort of physical damage normal for police officers? She makes a note to ask JARVIS to run some numbers against staff in their precinct or whatever it’s called, as well as the entirety of the police force in which they serve for comparison.

The information on both men is quite a bit more than she had expected to see, and she expects that some of it wasn’t exactly obtained from public records. Especially as there’s a pared down version that has a lot more basic facts, with a note from JARVIS that she should probably present this version if they want to know how she knows so much about the two of them.

Continuing on through the documents Stark’s assistant has sent, Darcy sees a dossier on herself. It looks like a slightly redacted version of her SHIELD file, which Stark should definitely NOT have access to. It’s actually a more complete version than she herself has seen before, with things that had been censored for her about herself included in the version JARVIS has pulled. It makes for interesting reading. She laughs out loud at the various write ups of her work and her personality from various academic, SHIELD and scientific staff, but sobers at the surprisingly positive notes left by Coulson. It would appear that Pepper was telling the truth about the Agent’s regard. She feels a little bit bad about calling him a jack-booted thug now. But only a little bit.

She has a feeling that, being a cop, Robbie’s probably already working on background information on her at his end. As she reads through the information she notices JARVIS included a line that someone in the UK has been making requests for records under her name and she smiles. She probably should feel kind of offended, but it’s weirdly comforting that she’s made enough of an impression on either or both of the men that they’re putting out feelers to learn more.

There’s also a brief write up for all of her companions, and one for each of the Avengers, code name only of course. It’s a little more than is available on the internet, with the exception of Stark, because the media has followed the minutia of the life of Tony Stark since before he was born. But the information provided isn’t enough to get any of them in trouble with SHIELD.

Darcy spends the next couple of hours pondering what to do with all this information as she surfs the web for information on how to get to Oxford. They’ll need to replace the Volvo as well, seeing as how it’s buried under rubble… nope, not thinking about that right now. Resolutely, she shoots an email to JARVIS asking if there’s anyone she can call on locally, or if he has any idea how to go about buying a couple of new cars.

The she puts her head between her knees for a little bit, because she’s lightheaded at the idea that she can just go out and buy a couple of new cars with no worries about financing, monthly payments, or whether or not they can afford the power windows.

Once she’s no longer in danger of passing out, she checks out Hathaway’s band’s Soundcloud, and while it’s not exactly her jam, Darcy appreciates the way the instruments effortlessly meld together to create something entirely unexpected. She wonders which instrument Hathaway plays, and if he writes any of the tunes they’ve posted.

By lunchtime, when Jane and Thor finally wander back in from the bedroom, Darcy’s pretty much decided to retreat to Oxford for a few days. Jane’s looking much, much better if still a bit fragile, sitting down for her second consecutive meal in the same day. Darcy stops to marvel at the fact that Thor’s managed a minor miracle by getting Jane to stop thinking about SCIENCE! long enough to eat twice in six hours. Thor’s looking more content than she’s ever seen him, and he’s eager to resume his cooking lessons in the kitchen. A simple pasta bake (two pans though, so Thor can have his own) and a lot of laughter later, they’re sitting down to eat again. 

Darcy outlines what she’s learned, and Thor is overjoyed that of all the people on Midgard, she has managed to bump into family in the midst of a battle. Extended or not, he is thrilled for her. Darcy takes this with a grain of salt, knowing what she does about his own family and his own recent losses. She stands up to hug him anyway, and makes her hug an especially fierce one, as if she can transmit all her feels for the big lug right through his pores and into his heart.

Jane too is excited and very pleased. She knows Darcy doesn’t have the best family history, and since her grandmother passed hasn’t spoken to any of the few relatives that remain scattered across the States. Jane and Darcy had gotten to know each other really well during those long nights of recreating Jane’s research in the New Mexico desert, and the scientist is genuinely pleased at the idea of Darcy finding blood relatives in the United Kingdom. Even if he is a member of law enforcement.

As they’re doing the dishes, Darcy mentions that she’s planning to get out of their hair for a few days and go up to Oxford. This is met with some protest from both Jane and Thor, but she’s firm on this point. The lovebirds need to have some serious couple’s bonding time without her hanging around. 

And to be perfectly honest, Darcy needs to get a bit further away from Greenwich. She actually contemplated hopping a plane to Australia, but isn’t willing to leave Jane for that long. Getting to know Robbie Lewis sounds like just enough of a distraction to keep her mind off of the events of a couple of days ago and Oxford is close enough that she can return fairly quickly if necessary.

She’s checking the train schedules when there’s another knock on the door. Another very serious courier hands over another package addressed directly to her. 

“Nice ‘disguise’ there Hawkass.” Darcy and Barton had met during Thor’s first visit. She also knows more than she probably should about what he’s been through during Loki’s attempted invasion, thanks to Erik.

“Don’t knock the role playing potential of the UPS browns, baby.”

“Call me baby again and I’ll sic Thor on you.”

“…you win this round. Well played. Just sign the fucking pad. These shorts are giving me a serious wedgie.”

Darcy snickers but scribbles something that vaguely looks like her name where indicated. 

“Oh, and hey. Swap out your phone for the one that was in the box yesterday that’s got your name on it, please. All the data on your current phone has been pushed to the new one.”

“What? Why would I want to do that?”

“Because the new one is a Stark phone, with all kinds of non-standard goodies included. And it’s a hell of a lot more secure than what you’ve got there.” Barton sighs at the mulish expression that greets his request. “Please? Just make it easier for all of us, just this once? Oh, and call me if you plan on leaving. Please.”

“Fine. Whatever.” They stare at each other. “Yeah, like I’m not going to ogle your butt as you walk away after you mentioned the wedgie. Add a little wriggle to the walk, m’kay sweet cheeks?”

He rolls his eyes but turns to go. She tucks the box under one arm so she can politely golf clap at the runway worthy pivot, shoulder drop, sassy chin toss and sashay back up the path Barton does for her. He must be amazing in drag. Shit, maybe he can fill in for Pepper if she decides to go buy herself some Louboutins today.

She shuts the door and goes to open the latest surprise present at the kitchen table. Darcy uses her butter knife to slit the tape, and opens it to find that there’s a taser on top, accompanied by a sheet of paper that looked to be covered in… were those oil smudges?

_Hey Sparky,_

_I hear from Thor that this is your weapon of choice. Anyone who can take on Point Break there with your average run-of-the-mill off the shelf deserves something a little special. Pepper’s telling me you have to carry the enclosed authorization with you at all times. If you don’t, I can’t be held responsible for you becoming the sweetheart of Cell Block B in some English jail. There were a few hoops to jump through to get you permission to carry in the UK. But I’m awesome, so you’re welcome. Also be aware that this is an experimental model that I made up personally. There’s some notes, it’ll be fine, if you have to use it be sure to send me some feedback._

Darcy squints as the handwriting trails off into strange scribbles and blotches. She scans down further.

_Pepper here, because Tony can’t be trusted with something as simple as a note. And because god forbid he actually make a user manual, just email either him - themechanic@stark.com - or me if you have any questions about it._

She tucks the certificate in her wallet before she forgets, and sets the taser aside with a small squee. There’s another sheet of paper on top of the remaining items in the box, with a typed message on it.

_Ms. Darcy,_

_I’ve taken the liberty of having these two tablets prepped with the version of the files that I feel you’ve been cleared to share with DI Lewis and DS Hathaway. The tablets are secured to thumbprint access, with additional instructions included for second level authentication on each tablet once the device has been imprinted to the individual. Please let the gentlemen know they are “on the house” and are for their personal use. Your contact information, as well as that for Thor, Doctor Foster and Doctor Selvig are also loaded._

_I’ve added myself and Ms. Potts as emergency contacts in the event they need to reach you but are unable to reach any of the previous three listed._

_Best regards,_

_JARVIS_

Who types their name in all capital letters? Darcy shrugs, figuring that you’ve got to be a little on the quirky side if you’re working closely with Stark, and goes to fish the SIM card out of her phone. She’s a little miffed that she’s been ordered to upgrade, but what the hell. New Stark tech is new Stark tech.

*****

Darcy takes a deep breath and dials Inspector Lewis’ number. Showtime.

“Inspector Lewis.”

“Um, hi. It’s Darcy. Darcy Lewis? From the whole, ‘holy shitballs the world is ending and we had a ringside seat’ event?”

“Darcy! Of course. I’m not so old just yet that I’d forget you that easily.” She can hear the smile in his voice and starts to relax. “We’ve been wondering how you’ve been getting on. Everything all right?”

“Actually, it’s been pretty good. Things have gone about as well as we could have hoped. I was thinking of getting out of London for a few days though. Maybe take an afternoon train up and stay in Oxford for a few days? I have a bit of news, and figured we could maybe chat a bit. I know it’s short notice but I could meet you somewhere if you’re free?”

“I have a better idea. How about James and I knock off a bit early and pick you up at the train station? We could get dinner maybe?” She can hear him cover the mouthpiece and can make out a couple of low male voices having a short conversation. “Yeah, let’s plan on doing that.

Darcy smiles. “Only if you let me treat you.”

“We can arm wrestle for it. Put on a bit of a bit of a show for the other patrons.” 

Darcy giggles. 

“Really you’re already treating us by giving us an excuse to put the endless piles of paperwork on hold until tomorrow.”

“Win-win all around then. I’ll pack and text you with the ETA once I’m on the train. Sound good?”

“Sounds great. See you soon.” Lewis hangs up, and Darcy taps her phone against her lips. She dials another number.

“Hey, I’m going up to Oxford for a few days. Do you need to come with?” 

“Ah, the dreaming spires. Yes, I do. When are you leaving?” Hawkeye sounds resigned and cheerful at the same time.

“I still have to pack, and check the train schedule.”

“You know I could just drive you. Do we gotta take the train?”

“I like trains. I won’t say no to a cab or a ride from here to the station though. And Lewis and Hathaway are picking me up in Oxford.” She pauses. “I don’t know how this works. Do I need to let you know where I’m going to stay? Do I need to run where I’m going to stay past you? Do we travel together or am I basically pretending that we have nothing to do with one another and forget you exist?”

“Well, I am memorable. So the last part of that isn’t likely.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego or any other part of you, Barton.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to be seen all that much if at all possible. If you want we can share transport to Paddington, but I’ll stay out of your hair as much as possible. You can call me to check in and let me know what you’re doing though. That’ll make it easier on me. Not that it’s going to be hard keeping eyes on you.”

“Note to self, make sure the blinds are closed at all times.”

“Aww Darcy no.” It’s amazing how much whining a grown man and deadly sniper can fit into three words.

“I’ll be ready in about forty five minutes. Call a cab?” That should be plenty of time to shower, toss a few things in an overnight bag, shove the relevant tech into a backpack and hit the road. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Ah, one last thing. Darcy scrolls through her contacts and dials a less familiar number. She’s actually pretty relieved when it goes to voicemail. “Ian? Darcy. Things here are still a little whackadoodle here, though not in a world ending kind of way thankfully. I’m actually going to be out of town for a little bit. Check in with Jane if you feel like you want to come in and work, but to be honest I think we’re in kind of a holding pattern for now.”

She pauses, thinking. “Anyway, hope you’re doing all right. Enjoy your days off!” She hangs up and considers the phone thoughtfully. There’s just something that’s been bugging her about Ian since the Convergence. Maybe she’ll check in with Jane in a couple of days about finding another intern. After the sparks from her reunion with Thor have died down. 

Darcy scrambles to her feet and pads down the hall to tell Jane and Thor about her plans. Time for a change of scenery.

*****

“Is that it?” Barton is blinking in shock at Darcy as she descends the stairs. She’s got a backpack over one shoulder and a small wheelie bag in the other. “Don’t most women travel with, like, trunks full of stuff?”

Darcy favors him with a flat look. “I’m only going for a few days. I probably wouldn’t even have the suitcase if the backpack didn’t have all the shiny new toys in it.”

“Huh. Well, here, let me put it in the trunk.” Clint nods to the cab driver, and opens the back door. Darcy slips in while he goes around to the back. She’s flicking through Facebook on her phone when he slides in beside her.

“How are you doing? I mean, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.”

Darcy blinks, slowly raising her eyes to Clint’s. She cocks an eyebrow. 

“Or we could go get drunk?” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck sheepishly. 

She’s gotta give it to him. If he wasn’t so hopeless, she might have been tempted to tap that. “Not ready. Not sure when I will be.” Darcy reaches out to poke him in the side. “Thanks though. I’ll keep the offer in my back pocket and no, there is no other part of you that will reside there.” 

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.” He grins, unrepentant.

*****

The ride to Paddington is relatively swift, and Clint disappears with a brusque nod as soon as he can get the door open. The driver helps retrieve her bags from the trunk, and Darcy’s left to navigate buying a ticket and finding the right platform on her own. She doesn’t mind though. She’s not in any real hurry, and all the bustle and the unrelenting stream of people hurrying to their own destinations is soothing in its own way. She’ll say one thing about cities like New York and London. Life never stops, even after a disaster of alien proportions.

She waits until she’s seated before she dials Lewis’ number. It’s a short chat, since she’ll be seeing him in a couple of hours.

“I should get in around 5:15 or so.”

“That sounds perfect. You know what we look like, so we’ll stand somewhere conspicuous near the exit.”

Now that she’s on her way and distractions are minimized, she takes the time to pull the tablet earmarked for her out of her backpack. There’s a convenient “read me” text doc smack dab in the middle of the desktop which details out all the specs. The device will connect to just about any public wireless, but with a proprietary non-commercial Stark encryption which means she can use it anywhere without getting digital cooties, and she’s basically invisible on that network. Sweet. She pats the casing and promises that she’ll only use it for chaotic good. 

She’s got access to Jane’s inbox, because the boss lady often forgets to check on these things when she’s in the middle of SCIENCE!, and it’s been a few days so Darcy goes in to check on it. 

And promptly recoils in horror.

Someone appears to have leaked Jane’s email address somewhere post-Convergence, because there are thousands and thousands of emails in her inbox. Darcy can see by the subject lines of many of them that there’s a whole lotta blaming going on. It’s like she’s tripped and fallen into the darkest parts of 4chan without hazmat gear, and she reaches for her phone with a shaking hand. Time to call in reinforcements before anyone else gets a gander at this, and she’s lucky she knows someone who can help. She thanks whoever pre-loaded the new smartphone with Pepper’s contact information, and dials.

“Darcy? Hi!”

“Pepper? Help.” She’s not really sure why her breathing is ragged, but she can feel herself trembling.

“What’s wrong? Are you in danger?” Pepper’s voice is sharp and concerned.

“Not in danger, except in the digital sense. I’m looking at Jane’s email inbox.”

“Ah.” There’s an entire world of understanding in the other woman’s voice. “I’ll ask JARVIS to take care of that. He screens our digital mailboxes and can set up similar protocols for your group. SHIELD is taking care of physical deliveries right now, but once you all settle we can talk to Thor about how he’d like to handle physical security as well. For now, do you want me to transfer you over to him and talk about that?”

“Honestly, I kind of don’t really want to look at or think about that again any time soon. I do hope he can get it cleared up before Jane goes to check her inbox though. I don’t want her to see all that.” Darcy goes quiet for a moment. She’s no stranger to trolls, being female and with an internet presence, but the brief glimpse at Jane’s mail makes her want to take another shower and she’s just had one. “If he can let me know when it’s done, that’d be great. I told Jane I’d call her when I get settled and I can mention it then.”

“He’s working on it as we speak. Did he help you with your other request?”

“Oh, yeah, and he was great!” Resolutely turning her mind from the problem that’s now thankfully out of her hands, Darcy goes on to happier topics. “Out of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, I ran into a cousin here.”

“Wait, really? That detective is family?”

“Yeah. Weird huh? I’m actually on the way to Oxford now to talk to him about it. Plus, well, I wanted to give our two snugglebunnies time to snuggle and make like bunnies.”

“Wow. Darcy, that’s wonderful. I hope that this visit goes well.” 

Seriously, how can this woman be this nice? Darcy feels tears in her eyes and is super confused. What is going on with her? She’s all over the emotional map lately. Clearing her throat, she responds.

“I think it’ll be good. I’ll let you know how it goes. Oh, and in case you checked, no I didn’t really splurge on myself today but figure the change of scenery will be good enough for today. I’ll poke around Oxford and do some shopping tomorrow. For now, I’ll let you go. I know you’re busy. And thanks again for helping clean up that mess.”

“You’re welcome, and send pics of whatever you buy!”

They ring off and Darcy turns her attention towards doing some research on the city she’s about to visit. Now that she’s cleared to spend all kinds of money, she finds herself reluctant to do so. But she’s sure she’ll get over it, given the right incentive. 

The journey up to Oxford passes quickly. She immerses herself in a number of different websites, getting the lay of the land and making a list of things to see and do, and places to go. Before she knows it, they’re pulling in to the station and disembarking. She sees Barton out of the corner of her eye, but he blends into the crowd, disappearing in the rush. But all of her attention is captured by the pair of suit-clad men standing exactly where they said they’d meet her. Robbie’s smiling cheerfully. Hathaway looks… stoic. 

Well. This is certainly going to be an interesting night. She smiles and waves with the hand not carrying her overnight bag, and heads in their direction.

“Hey boys. How’s it hangin’?” Hathaway looks pained, but Robbie’s smile grows. He ignores her impertinent question, instead reaching for her overnight bag. She allows him to take it as they turn and walk towards where they’ve presumably left the car.

“Trip up all right? Any problems?” Hathaway offers to take her backpack, but she declines with a small smile. 

“Nah, it was all good. I gotta tell you, public transport here is pretty damn cool. It’s kind of nice, not having to jump in a car to get somewhere significant. Bit of a change from New Mexico and Norway anyway.”

“Any preference on where to have dinner? There’s plenty of nice restaurants in Oxford.” Hathaway seems content to let Robbie drive the conversation and automatically moves to get in the backseat when they reach the car.

“Dude, no.” Darcy reaches for the handle instead. “Stretch, you’ve gotta be kidding. You’re like a foot taller than I am and I’m pretty sure it’s all leg. I’m fine in back, really.” Robbie’s face is blocked by the lid of the trunk, but she can see he’s biting his lip to try to contain his grin.

She gets a tight smile in response. “Thanks.” Guess he he hasn’t scheduled that arboreal-rectal extraction. Obviously. “OK, let’s just get this out of the way right now.” 

“Pardon?” Hathaway has a pretty good poker face, but it’s not good enough. She can tell he knows what she’s talking about. But she elaborates for Robbie, who is looking confused.

“What exactly is your problem with me? I know you’ve got one, I can see it written all over you. So let’s just hash this out now because if it’s going to be something insurmountable, I can just get back on that train and head right back to London.”

Hathaway at least does her the courtesy of not pretending he doesn’t know what she means. “All right. Here’s my ‘problem’, as you put it. I don’t understand why you are here. How do we know you’re not here to take advantage of him?”

Both Robbie and Darcy look at Hathaway with nearly identical looks of incredulity. “Okay, no offense Robbie but.” She points to herself. “Me, friends with Thor. Assistant to one of the world’s premier minds in astrophysics. Known to the likes of Tony Stark, Pepper Potts and the other Avengers, probably.”

“You know the Avengers are still technically vigilantes. This doesn’t exactly help your argument about why we should trust you.” He’s stubbornly clinging to the idea that she’s here under false pretenses.

“I’m pretty sure that at least half of them are currently serving, or have served in some capacity for the United States Government, so I’m not entirely sure that holds water but whatever.” She folds her arms and scowls fiercely at Hathaway. “I’d like to see you take your complaint to the billionaire weapons developer, the rage monster or, oh wait, the _demi-god_.”

Robbie sighs and rests a hand on her arm. “There will be no hammering of me sergeant, and there’s no need to unleash your friend on him. He’s just… overprotective.”

“Well, someone has to be,” Hathaway sniffs, still clearly disgruntled but with an intriguing wash of color along his cheekbones. “Look what happened the last time I almost let you go about unsupervised. Nearly got squashed by an alien ship.”

“Right. Never mind that you were right there with me.” The two men trade a look Darcy’s just too tired to read. Robbie quirks a meaningful eyebrow, and Hathaway gives up, sighing.

“Fine. I… apologize, Ms. Lewis, for thinking you are here for nefarious purposes and under false pretenses.” 

She can’t help smiling, because he sounds as excited about his apology as he might be about having dental work done without anesthetic. 

“I had to ask the question. It’s _procedure_.” 

Here Robbie sighs at his ridiculous partner and rolls his eyes, and Darcy can only surmise that this is some weird form of teasing. Or flirting. Jury’s out.

“Before this one,” Robbie jerks a thumb at his partner, “went off the rails, we were talking about food.”

Oh, right. “Actually, I’d really truly honestly just like a pint or two and a burger. With a side of something fried. Got a favorite pub that will fit the bill?” Her stomach growls, adding some emphasis to the request.

“Oh, I think we can find something.” The two men throw out a couple of names that mean nothing whatsoever to her, but Robbie’s got the car moving and she relaxes into the seat. They make pleasant small talk during the brief trip, and sooner than expected they’re parking and heading in the door.

“So, maybe outside? Or a table somewhere kind of out of the way?”

“Sir, how about you two head outside and I’ll get in the first round? Ms. Lewis, what would you like?” All appears to be forgiven, or Hathaway’s finally decided to pull his head out of his ass.

“Call me Darcy. People say Ms. Lewis and I look around for my grandmother. Something alcoholic and dark-ish please. Lighter than a Guinness if possible?”

He nods and lopes towards the bar. Robbie guides her towards the garden with one hand on her back. They’ve hardly had a chance to sit before Hathaway’s back and setting a glass of lovely looking liquid in front of her. Heaving a sigh of relief, she picks it up and downs about three quarters of it in one go. And looks up to find two pairs of slightly wide eyes looking back at her. “Uh, Culver University keg stand champion my freshman year, at your service.” Well will you look at that. Apparently she can get a chuckle out of Hathaway. “Oh hey, can I bum one of those?” He’s set a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the table, but offers her one and even lights it for her.

Sweet, sweet nicotine. She doesn’t smoke as a general rule, but now and again it’s a nice indulgence. Closing her eyes, Darcy savors the rush as the booze and the cigarette hit her bloodstream, and she can feel her shoulders relax. She hadn’t realized just how tense she was until now.

“So… thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“You said you had some news?” Robbie leans forward, elbows on the table. “Are you sure everything is okay? You seem a little, well.”

“Wound? Strung a little tight? A bit at the end of my rope? All of the above?” She smiles at him. “Yes to that last bit, but I’m mostly just trying to figure out how to say it. Everything with Thunderstruck and company is fine. I mean, we got through all the interviews and rounds of questions. My boss is recovering well. Bananaballs is happy as a clam doing science with people who understand what he’s saying.” She pauses to take a deep drag off the cigarette.

“And you? How are you doing?” Robbie asks.

Darcy wonders what they’re like in an interrogation room. They’re friendly enough on the other side of the table right now, but she bets they’re a formidable team when they think you’ve done something wrong.

“Honestly? I haven’t been sleeping very well. A solution for one of my main worries arrived on our doorstep last night, which is really great. And I’ll tell you more about that in a second, but first….” She trails off. 

“Go on.” Robbie looks encouraging, so she just takes a deep breath and blurts it out.

“It turns out we share more than a last name? We’re cousins. Distant, but there’s a blood tie.”

“No. Really?” He’s surprised, but doesn’t look like he wants to get up and flee, so that’s good. “What are the odds?”

“That’s what I said, but there was just something about you when we met. I had a friend do a little digging. Here, I have visuals.” She reaches for her backpack and rummages around. It’s so full with all the tablets she can’t tell which is which, so she just tips the end of the pack up and lets everything gently slide onto the table. Ah, there they are. She fishes the two tablets delivered this morning out of the pile and hands one to each of them.

“I’m told you put your thumbprint there,” she indicates the spot. “There’s probably instructions for picking a password after that. There was on mine when I booted it this morning.”

Hathaway’s examining the device with interest. His eyebrows go up at the conspicuous StarkTech branding. “This is new. This is really, really new. I’ve not seen this on the market yet.”

Robbie’s keyed the device to his thumbprint and is tapping in a password. “Oh? They all look the same to me.”

“Let’s just say my fairy godmother has connections, for tech and data. We figured that since you are both police officers, and would want to verify any claim I might make to be related to the good Detective Inspector here, that we’d just go ahead and provide the verifiable data for you. I mean, taking the word of someone you met less than a week ago? Unlikely.” Darcy goes digging in the pile for her own tablet, and goes to sweep the rest of the pile back into the pack when a hand on her wrist stops her.

Both officers are looking at the taser.

“You know it’s entirely illegal for you to be carrying that.” Hathaway’s face is very serious, and very severe.

“Actually, I am authorized to carry that.” She finally locates her wallet and pulls the certificate out, passing it across the table for him to examine. His eyebrows go up in surprise, and he passes it along to his inspector.

“Well, I’ll be. How on earth did you manage that? We’re not even licensed to carry something like this.” Robbie picks up the sleek, compact device and examines it curiously. “This doesn’t look much like what I’m used to seeing.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t.” Darcy says, absently. “I’m not entirely sure, but Pepper and, well, her partner pulled some strings. None of my friends want me to go about unarmed for the time being and I’m familiar with the type of weapon.”

She can tell by the look on Hathaway’s face that his big old brain has been putting puzzle pieces together. “When you say ‘Pepper’, you don’t mean Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts, do you?”

Darcy nods, slowly. “Yep. I didn’t even have to fake wanting to go to a ball to get a fairy godmother! Instead of a carriage created from a pumpkin, I have a former weapons manufacturer designing custom gear for me. Might still end up with some swanky shoes though.”

Hathaway looks very unhappy. “Tony Stark is making you weapons. That you’re authorized to carry around in this country. That’s got to be conspiring to pervert the course of justice.”

She hums. “I’m not sure it’s perverting it so much as taking it out for a night on the town, getting it drunk and encouraging it to do things it’s always wanted to do but never had the guts to try before.”

“If you two are going to keep talking about perverting things, I’m going to need another drink.” Robbie passes the certificate back to her. “You should put them both away for now, but I’d advise you to get a holster of some sort to keep the weapon on your person if you’re in public rather than in a pack where someone could lift it.”

“I think he actually included one? Yeah, here it is. I just didn’t want to mess with it when I was trying to pack and leave.” It’d be too conspicuous to put it on in the pub garden, so she just tucks it back in the pack and away. The weapon is, unsurprisingly given its provenance, a lovely little thing and she’s looking forward to tinkering with it later. Stark may be an asshat in many ways, and he makes deadly things, but he makes _beautiful_ deadly things.

“Right, so, to sum up. We’re related, but quite a few branches up the family tree. I don’t.” Here she stops to have another sip of her beer, but just shrugs and drains the glass. “I don’t have a lot of family, and the ones I do have I don’t talk to.” She contemplates gentle blue eyes in the smiling face sitting across from her. “You were really kind, that day. I cried all over you and not once did you complain or protest or anything. I thought it might be nice to maybe come up and visit and, I dunno. Maybe get to know each other a little bit? I mean, we did stop the world from ending. That’s more than a lot of people have to go on when they’re trying to be friends.”

Darcy’s aware that she’s rambling a bit, but this feels kind of anti-climatic. She’d built this up into a Thing, with a capital letter T, but now that she’s just blurted it out, and Robbie seems amenable to getting to know one another better? She’s not sure how she feels. It’s not that she’s let down, or disappointed, or anything negative at all. There’s a certain amount of relief that he seems all right with the idea. But there’s one last thing.

“Um, I should probably say though that knowing me may be potentially hazardous to your health.” She leans forward, resting her elbows on the tabletop and runs her hands through her hair. All of a sudden she’s absolutely, completely exhausted. She probably shouldn’t have downed that beer so quickly on an empty stomach, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. “Hey, can get get some food? I can go on but my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”

“I grabbed a menu for you.” Hathaway slides it across the table towards her. She takes a quick look, and settles on some sort of posh sounding burger with sides. “I can go and put in our order. Shall I get another round in?”

“Yeah, another of the same would be great. Here.” She pulls her wallet out again and looks for a bill in a denomination that won’t raise eyebrows at the counter. The amount of cash in there is certainly raising eyebrows across the table. “Yeah, I’ll tell you about that too.”

Hathaway accepts the cash without comment and heads back into the building. Robbie takes another sip from his beer, and she can feel his eyes studying her face. She’s fairly sure she can guess what he sees there. Dark circles under her eyes for sure. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup after her shower, preferring to get to the train station and on the way here before she lost her nerve. She’d scraped her hair up into a messy bun for the train, but now that it’s down it’s probably a complete disaster. She felt fine earlier, but now she feels stretched and hollowed out, worn down and unsteady.

She hates this feeling and would like it to go away right the fuck now, thank you very much.

“So.”

Robbie smiles. “So. I take it you haven’t been here before.”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. “We were in Norway for quite a while, which was a god damn rude awakening after New Mexico, but have only been in the UK for a few weeks. London, mostly, but I haven’t even had much of a chance to see the sights there. Our budget has been grim for a really long time, and I’ve been pretty occupied with trying to keep Jane’s spirits up while we look for her blond space booty caller.” 

And hasn’t that been a barrel of laughs this past six months. Jane’s determination and hope for Thor’s return had been really strong that first year, but as time went on, she’d had to stand by and watch the light in her friend’s eyes slowly fade. Hearing news coming out of New York during Loki’s attack, and seeing Thor on the news but not hearing from him had really hurt Jane on some level Darcy couldn’t reach to heal. Come to think of it, she really owes Thor a punch in the face at some point. It’ll hurt her more than it’ll hurt him, but it’s the principle of the thing. There are just some misdeeds a BFF can’t let slide.

“From the very little I’ve seen though, this city is really pretty.”

As they chat about the sights not to be missed in Oxford, Hathaway returns with pints for himself and for Darcy. Robbie seems to be nursing his along slowly. The younger man, bless his apparently lavender socks, has brought a couple of small plates of appetizers. She reaches for the food with a hand that’s visibly trembling. Dammit.

She’s thankful that neither man comments, and is grateful when Robbie picks up the conversation where they’d left off. All the usual touristy stops are reviewed with a local’s eye for details and timing, and she’s glad to have the information. Nothing like anticipating a lovely, leisurely stroll through a museum only to visit on the day most of the school kids take a tour.

“Oh, hey, can I visit the Bodleian? Just…all those books. I love books.”

Hathaway looks pleased and a bit surprised. “Well, you can certainly visit. But you usually have to have some sort of academic or research reason to check anything out. There’s a few forms to complete if you’re not actually attending the University.”

Darcy frowns. “Hmm. I’m not sure if my intern credentials for Jane will count. Ah well. I’ll download the forms and check it out. Actually, I’m not sure if filling out anything like that right now is a good idea.” She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“So. I’m authorized to carry a weapon that most of your police forces aren’t issued, and I have a shadow following me around for my own safety. Like I said, knowing me could land you in uncomfortable or possibly painful situations down the road.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

How to explain this? “So your lovely country has the most extensive network of public surveillance on the planet right now, correct? And there were lots of people with camera phones during our little adventure. A few people have put two and two together and correctly come up with Thor. Jane, at least, has already been identified, and her email address posted publicly.” 

Robbie looks at Hathaway, who is frowning. Hathaway leans towards his boss and lowers his voice. “Remember the comments on that Miranda Thornton video?”

“Disgusting stuff. Thinking about that still makes me angry.” 

Hathaway sighs. “And that was just a dating website. Imagine the kind of vitriol that a beautiful female scientist who appears to have been somehow involved in an alien attack would attract.”

Darcy shakes her head. “No, don’t. Really, just… don’t. I checked her email on the train and wanted to scrub my entire body with bleach to get rid of the filth and maybe poke my own eyes out for good measure so I’d never have to see it again.” She shudders hard at the memory. “We’ve got someone working on screening that info, and knowing who’s involved they’re likely to be scrubbing a lot of our information off the internet right now. I hope they get that done before someone doxxes all of us. We’ve been lucky so far. Or maybe it’s that SHIELD’s been running interference.” 

Robbie’s looking at her with concern again. “And that’s just the public stuff. There’s more, isn’t there?”

Darcy bites her lip. “You two are cops, and you know the kinds of things people do to one another. This is like a whole different level. The knowledge that Jane has in her brain? Would be worth a lot to the right kind of people, organizations, or maybe governments.”

She wouldn’t want to see Hathaway’s dental bills, the way he’s clenching his teeth right now. Robbie has a fairly good poker face, but the contempt he feels at the thought is obvious if you are looking. And she is.

“I’m just the intern, and the only real science I do is of the political kind. But I’ve been working with her for over two years, and I’ve probably been photographed standing near tall, blond and hammery, and that’s probably going to be enough for some people to think that I know more than I do.” She pauses, then sighs. “Or think that I’m important enough that my friends wouldn’t want to see me hurt and might give up things in order to get me back in one piece. Or hopefully not in a variety of different pieces.”

She winces at her own harsh words. God, she hasn’t put it quite so bluntly to anyone. Not even herself. She can’t prevent her hands from clenching on the table in front of her, and starts in surprise when they’re covered by two different hands of the male variety.

“Sounds like the kind of interesting person I’d want to get to know better.” Robbie winks at her when she looks up. “Not going to scare me off that easily, lass.”

“Me either. I mean, I’m not going to be the one who tries to teach this one,” here Hathaway jerks a thumb at his partner, “How to use that tablet you’ve just given him. I mean honestly, it’s like handing a toddler a precious heirloom and expecting them to give it the white glove treatment.”

“Oi, I’m not that bad at it!” Robbie protests vigorously, and Darcy takes the moment to wipe eyes that have gone a bit damp. Her phone chimes with a new text.

_I like these guys. They sound like keepers._

Darcy gasps. “You asshole, did you plant a bug on me?!” She hisses with outrage.

Her phone chimes again. _No?_

The two across the table have ceased their bickering and are focused on her again. “Everything okay?”

“NO everything is not okay. Where is it, dammit. I get that you need to be here, but listening in is like way, way over the line. If you don’t tell me how to get rid of it right now, I swear to god I will make you regret this. I may not play at your level, but I am sneaky and determined and I will find a way to make you hurt.” She probably looks completely demented, ranting at a whisper into thin air, but she can tell her two companions understand what she’s talking about.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“I mean it. Do not test me on this, birdbrain. Look up the Metcalf Dorm Incident in my file if you think I’m joking.”

There’s an even longer pause. She turns to Hathaway. “Hey, can I bum another smoke? And can you tell me where the closest place is where I can get a pack of my own?” He nods and she accepts another from the packet. He leans over with lighter in hand once more, but has to hold her hand steady so they can get it lit. She’s shaking, she’s so angry right now.

They sit in silence for a moment, Darcy and Hathaway smoking, Robbie staring off into the gathering dark. Finally, a new text arrives.

_Top of your backpack. Behind the brand label. And damn, that was some impressive work._

“Never do this again. I mean it. If you feel like you need to, then talk to me first. I am a reasonable woman, and can understand why it might be necessary in some circumstances. But do not, I repeat, do not add insects of any variety to my belongings, my tech or my person without my permission. You get me?”

_Acknowledged._

She pulls her backpack over and pries at the label. Robbie produces a pocket knife and hands it over without comment. She slides the tip in behind stitching that looks like it’s slightly frayed from normal wear and tear, and cuts the threads holding the flimsy embroidered patch on. She slides the thin metal under the edge of the small black disc attached to the back side of the patch and dumps the item onto the wood of the table. She closes the knife, and then brings the butt end down hard on it repeatedly, shattering the tech into even smaller pieces. She hands Robbie his knife, and then, to add insult to injury, pours part of her pint over the remains.

“Wish I’d gone for a whisky. Beer won’t burn, or I’d set that fucking thing on fire too.” She’s glaring at the remnants with such intensity she feels like she could be shooting laser beams out her pupils. If only that were an option.

“You know what? Let me go see if our food is ready.” Robbie stands, circling around behind Darcy and pausing to squeeze her shoulder. “Need anything else while I’m up there?”

“Vodka. Or chocolate. I need so much chocolate right now.” 

Darcy’s glad Hathaway doesn’t feel any particular need to talk while Robbie’s getting their food. They sit in semi-comfortable silence, smoking and staring into space. He doesn’t comment when she pulls another cigarette from his pack, though he does smile faintly when she just lights the new one off the cherry of the old.

“The Metcalf Dorm Incident?”

“Oh my god we need a bottle of tequila, three white boards and about a dozen different colors of markers before I can even begin to explain.”

Luckily Robbie slides a plate with a very tasty looking burger in front of her before they can head too far down that conversational path. He also sets a martini glass with some sort of creamy looking drink inside near her hand. “One chocolate martini, as requested. I’m not sure how well that’ll go with the burger, mind, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

“Where’s mine? Don’t you love me anymore, sir?” Hathaway does facetious really, really well.

She tunes out her companions for just a moment while she steadily works her way through the fries, oh excuse her, the chips on her plate and sipping her deliciously cold and alcoholic drink. Fries were just vodka in a different form anyway, right? And anyone who hasn’t dipped their fries in a Wendy’s Frosty is missing out and she has a sad for them. This is basically just the grown up version of the snack she would treat herself to every once in a while after school.

Darcy finishes her unexpected alcoholic awesomeness sooner than is probably wise, but since she’s about to devour that burger she figures it’ll all work out in the end. And hey, she’s not driving anywhere, so it’s not a big deal. Her dinner companions have been making short work of their own meals, and none of them feel the need to fill the congenial silence with small talk.

“Where are you staying?”

Ah hell. “Um, would you believe that in all the research on what to see and do on the train ride that I totally forgot to look into places to stay? Any suggestions? There’s a super chic hotel here, right?” 

“Super chic but also super spendy.”

“Ah, right. That reminds me.” She hands her wallet over to Hathaway. “The other thing my fairy godmother did for me was to give me the means with which to buy my own glass slippers.” The younger detective is thumbing through the impressive wad of cash in her possessions, but his eyebrows really go up when he takes a closer look at the credit cards. He shoots her a speaking glance. “Yep, they’re real.” She pauses. “You know, I think that’s the first time in my life I’ve said that and haven’t been referring to my breasts?”

She doesn’t miss how both men’s eyes dart down below her collarbones, but to their credit they immediately return to her face. It’s dark enough out where they’re sitting that she can’t see if Robbie blushes, but she can’t miss the way Hathaway’s ears go red. She laughs, unexpectedly delighted. “Seriously though, I don’t have to worry about budgets anymore. And I haven’t been able to wrap my brain around that, considering it’s been less than twenty four hours since she bippity-boppity-boo’d my credit woes away. So, yeah. Swanky hotel?”

Darcy watches the other two hold an entire conversation without words. It’s really quite entertaining to watch, actually, and she wonders if people see something similar when she and Jane have these same kinds of ‘discussions’. Darcy‘s finishing off the last of her beer when Robbie turns to her. 

“To be honest, lass, given what we’ve talked about here tonight, I think we’d feel better if you stayed with me. It’s not swanky or chic, but there is a second bedroom and I’m told the bed is quite comfortable.”

Oh hey, will you look at that. Darcy’s touched that he’s inviting her into his home after spending a total of about, what, eight hours in her company? Knowing that she’s probably got some kind of target painted on her back, and having a good idea of the baggage she’s bringing with her that’s way bigger than the two small pieces of luggage she’s carrying, he’s still asking her to stay with him.

“Are you sure?” He nods. Alrighty then. “Sounds perfect to me. I accept, with pleasure.”

Darcy pulls a tissue from the front pocket of her backpack and sweeps the sodden pieces of Hawkeye’s bug into it. She’ll either scatter pieces out the window as they drive or drop them in something Barton’s about to eat or drink the next time she sees him. The little shit deserves to crack a tooth on it.

*****

They drop Hathaway at his place, and Darcy moves up to the front passenger seat when he vacates it. Robbie eyes her briefly.

“It just feels a little too much like ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ otherwise.”

Robbie smiles at her, and the silence isn’t awkward but she isn’t especially comfortable with it. “I have no idea what to say now. I mean, we’ve covered the ‘Surprise! Family!’ thing, and the ‘I could be in a fair bit of danger’ thing, and you already know more about my college shenanigans than a police officer probably should. Where shall we go from here?”

“Well, I should probably have asked if you’re allergic to cats.”

Darcy gasps in delight. “You have a cat? Really?”

“It wasn’t intentional, mind. His owner died under suspicious circumstances, which prompted an investigation. Animal welfare was busy when I went to do my initial poke about his home, and I couldn’t just leave the poor thing there. So I packed him into his case and brought him first to the station, and then home and he’s just never left.” It’s adorable, really, how sheepish Robbie looks.

“Oh my god, that’s adorable. Does he have a name?” Darcy is delighted. She’s moved around too much to consider having a pet, unless you count Barton.

“I’ve been calling him Monty. And he’ll try to convince you that he hasn’t been fed all week, but he’s a fuzzy ball of lies so don’t fall for it.” 

“Aww, you love him. I can tell.” She’s grinning, because seriously.

“Well. He doesn’t talk too much, and he can be good company. Certainly eats less than Hathaway, so he’s a cheaper date.” They chat a bit more on the way, with Robbie filling Darcy in about Lyn and his grandson, and his son in Australia. There’s a certain resignation when he mentions his son, and she gathers that they aren’t very close anymore. Robbie goes on to tell her a bit about his career in the force, and mentions someone named Morse. Darcy recognizes the name from the file but she’s not sure how to unpack the complicated tangle of emotions that bleed through Robbie’s voice when he talks about his old boss.

Interesting. He may present a nice, bland, amiable mask on the surface, and she’s sure that the nice part is true, but there’s a lot more going on underneath than most people are probably allowed to see. All of a sudden her trepidation at trying to get to know him disappears, and she finds she’s actually looking forward to learning more about this man who is much more complicated than she anticipated.

The yawn that nearly dislocates her jaw takes her by surprise. “Whoa.”

Robbie shoots a look at her as he pulls into a parking space. “Still tired?”

She sighs as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Well, I’ve only gotten one mostly uninterrupted night of sleep since the thing, and that was last night. Might take a while to catch up.”

“Let’s get you inside then.” Robbie takes her bag from her, and leads the way to his flat. He keys open the door and uses his foot to fend off the beast already demanding dinner at him from the floor. Darcy grins and follows him in, and Monty is so surprised that he stops mid-meow and sits on his haunches.

The cat and Darcy eye one another as she takes off her coat and shoes She carefully steps around the feline and goes to sink into the couch, grateful for the chance to relax a little. It was good to know that she had an Avenger watching out for her, but knowing that there were real concerns prompting the surveillance was unexpectedly stressful. She supposed she should cut herself some slack, seeing as how she’s only known about all this for less than a day, but she can’t help but wonder what other nightmares are waiting in the wings.

Her gloomy thoughts are interrupted by a good ten pounds of rumbly fur landing in her lap. Monty doesn’t wait for her to hold out a hand to sniff. He just shoves his head under her hand and does that sinuous rolling thing cats do when they’re using your limbs to pet themselves. “Why hello there.”

“Interesting. He’s never warmed up to anyone so fast the entire time I’ve had him.” Robbie is smiling at them both. Monty appears to be determined to make a spectacle of himself, crawling up Darcy’s front so he can shove his head under her chin, purring like mad the entire time and kneading her collarbone gently.

“He’s a sweetie. Aren’t you Monty?” Darcy gives in and buries her fingers in the soft fur. The purring grows exponentially louder. “Aww, who’s a good boy?”

“Can I get you a drink?” 

She nods, still preoccupied with the demanding little beast stretched out across most of her torso. She loses track of whatever Robbie is doing until he sits down on the couch and offers her a glass. “Ah, thanks.” Sipping the cool brew is a challenge as the cat keeps trying to poke his nose in her glass. She offers it to him, letting him smell the contents. Apparently he doesn’t approve as he makes a sound of distaste and hops down to go investigate whether or not Robbie’s refilled his food bowl.

“So.” Robbie says, smiling at her. “You’ve made a new friend.”

She rolls her head in his direction. “He was a challenge, I’ll grant you that, but I triumphed in the end.” She takes another sip. “You know, I should ask Thor if Allspeak lets him talk to animals? I bet it does.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what Monty thinks of my caretaking.” Robbie props his feet on the coffee table with a sigh. “I’m not here as much as I probably should be, but at least he requires less attention than a dog. This job can be hard on relationships.”

Darcy nods. “Was it hard for Val, do you think?” Ah hell. She hadn’t meant to bring up his wife. Maybe she should’ve just gone to bed. “I’m so sorry. I can be the elephant in the room, stomping all over things people would rather ignore. We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want. ”

He searches her face for a moment, but nods slowly. “It’s all right. It still hurts, and some nights I can hardly bear it, but maybe I should talk about her more often.” He slumps further into the couch. “Aye, lass, I know it was hard on my wife. Especially with the kids. My hours got a lot more unpredictable once I made Sergeant and started working with Morse. The money was better, and very welcome, but she needed more help than she got from me.” He sighs again. “And I missed a lot of my kids growing up. I missed birthdays, and sports events, and recitals. I turned around one day and they were teenagers, with all the surly attitude that go with the hormones.” He shares a grin with her, but it dies quickly.

“Then the kids were out in the world, and it was just us. It was easier than ever to love her.” The naked pain in his voice is hard to hear and she can’t stop her eyes from filling. “We lost her six days before Christmas.” Darcy reaches for his hand, and he squeezes hers tight. “I didn’t have nearly enough time with her. And I miss her every single day.” Robbie sits up and clears his throat, dashing a hand across his eyes. 

“When you’re ready, will you tell me more about her?” She slides across the couch to lean against his side. “She sounds like a special lady, putting up with you all those years.”

His laugh is a little bit broken, but genuine. “Yeah, she really was. And someday, I would like to tell you about her. I just… I can’t. Not yet.”

“I understand.” Darcy stretches up to place a kiss on his cheek, then just rests her head against his shoulder. Monty strolls back in from the kitchen and hops up into Robbie’s lap, settling down to knead him into submission.

They sit like that, quiet and still for some time. It’s peaceful, listening to Monty’s contented purr, and feeling the comforting weight of Robbie’s arm across her shoulders. But eventually she breaks the stillness with another enormous yawn. “Good god, I am so sorry.”

“Let me show you where everything is at.” Robbie gently moves Monty off his lap and stands, stretching. He takes a moment to rummage through one of the kitchen drawers. “Thought I had… yeah, here we go.” He hands her a set of keys. “In case you want to go out tomorrow. Assuming we aren’t called in on a case tonight, we can have breakfast before I head in to work?”

“Oh, that’d be great. If I’m not up, just poke your head in. You may have to poke me a few times. Mornings are rarely my friend.”

He frets a bit as the last case they were on took some time to solve, and he’s behind on the laundry. There aren’t any clean sheets for the spare bed. Darcy can’t help but find this precious. “Well, answer me this. Does Hathaway have cooties?”

Robbie snorts out a laugh. “I doubt it. The man has barely dated the entire time I’ve known him.”

Oh really? Interesting. “Then believe me when I say that I’ve slept on worse. One night won’t kill me.” Her eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Plus this way I can tease him about us sleeping in the same bed. Sharing the sheets, as it were.”

“Please, god, let me be there for that.” Robbie looks absolutely fervent as he makes the wish. “Right, bathroom is through there. Do you need anything else?”

“Glass of water might be good. I drank a lot more than usual tonight.” He nods and retraces his steps to the kitchen. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Be right out!” she calls as she takes her bag with her into the bathroom.

Darcy really doesn’t take long. She hates the way travel makes her skin feel, so it’s a quick wash. She doesn’t bother with her hair, just makes sure it’s up and out of the spray. A couple of minutes later she’s drying off and sliding into the comfiest pair of pajamas she has. She passes a toothbrush over her teeth and by this time she’s fading fast, so she just leaves her toiletries bag on the countertop, shoves her dirty clothes back in her bag and pads barefoot out of the bathroom. She nearly runs into Robbie coming back out of the spare room.

“I added another blanket to the bed, just in case. Girls always seem to run colder, if I remember correctly.” He peers at her. “Yeah, you look done in. To bed with you.” He mock glares and points at the bed.

“Sir yes sir!” She salutes, drops her bag at the foot of the bed and her phone on the nightstand, and climbs in with a sigh. Once she’s got her surprisingly nice smelling pillow where she wants it, he sits on the side of the bed.

“Good?”

“Yeah, all good.” She smiles up at him sleepily, not quite sure what she’s seeing on his face. “You?”

“Sorry, for a moment you just reminded me of my daughter, a little bit.” He looks wistful, but then pats her arm. “I’m glad you’re here, Darcy. We’ll talk more in the coming days, but just know you’re welcome here. Whenever you like.” He absentmindedly pulls the covers up to her chin, then bends down to place a kiss on her hair. “Sleep well.”

Darcy’s smile is just a little shaky around the edges. She can’t remember the last time anyone actually tucked her in, and she’s not prepared for how it’s making her feel now. Her voice is a little husky as she murmurs, “Goodnight, Robbie”, but he seems to chalk it up to her sleepiness and merely stands with a gentle smile. Turning off the light he pads out, pulling the door nearly to but leaving it open just a crack.

The bed is cozy, and the weight of the blankets and duvet over her is oddly comforting. She’s surrounded by a masculine scent, which she’s guessing is Hathaway’s cologne, and a hint of cigarette smoke. It’s nice. The whole situation is a little bit weird. She’s in an unfamiliar room, in a strange city, the guest of a man she barely knows, but she feels safer than she has for some time. Maybe this family thing isn’t so bad after all. Darcy can hear the door creak open a bit, and feels Monty jump on the bed. He cautiously pads up the surface to curl up in the small of her back. She smiles as he makes himself comfortable, and the sound of his purring pulls her down into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out Laurence Fox's Soundcloud account (soundcloud.com/laurencefoxmusic). I rather like his work, though it's not the "world music with elements of jazz and medieval madrigals" that Hathaway's band plays, that's for sure. Fox plays James Hathaway in _Lewis_.


	3. Chapter 3

“Darcy?”

She snorts awake at the sound of her name. The thinks the room is a lot lighter, at least based on what’s coming through her eyelids, and as she sits up she realizes she’s slept through the night again.

“Mmph?”

“Breakfast. Come on down when you’re ready.” Robbie sounds amused. Unfair.

“Mnnghn.”

She can hear him in the hallway as she flops back down and burrows under the covers. “And don’t go back to sleep!” he calls. “Next wake up call involves a glass of ice water.”

It’s not so much the threat as it is the feel of Monty hopping down off the bed to go and investigate the smell of frying meat drifting through the flat that gets her to sit back up and pry her eyes open. Well, one of them anyway. The eyelashes on the other are stuck together. Darcy flails around for her glasses and shoves them onto her face before sliding out of bed. She pads to the bathroom and pees before washing her hands and, after pushing her glasses up on top of her head, splashing some water on her face to get both her eyeballs working. Not that it matters, as she simply pats her face dry and with her eyes closed navigates the hallway with one hand on the wall and a vague memory of where everything is located.

Memory which doesn’t prevent her from walking right into something large, warm, and surprisingly well muscled. A small part of her brain registers the fact that it smells like her pillow and that someone nearby has said, “Ms Lewis?” in a slightly shocked tone, but all her concentration is on the scent of hot coffee that is tantalizingly near. Cracking one eye, she makes out a vaguely white blob that looks like a to-go cup and with a surprising amount of speed given she’s been awake for approximately five minutes, snatches it out of the hand that’s holding it.

“Ms Lewis!” No no no. That sounds like someone who might take the coffee away from her. Darcy curls over her prize, hissing lightly in warning. Monty unleashes a throaty growl in response. Or support. She’ll take it as support. He’s a good kitty.

“Sorry lad. I don’t think you’ll be getting that back.” Robbie sounds tickled, but she doesn’t care because she’s taken advantage of the distraction offered by her feline BFF and started chugging whatever is in the cup. It’s pretty good. She’ll have to thank whoever it is that has provided, however unwillingly, her first hit of her drug of choice once she’s able to make actual human sounds. 

Sadly, the cup is only half full and it’s gone in the span of a few gulps. She makes a mournful sort of honk and shoves the empty cup back into the solid muscle that she appears to have been leaning against while she swallowed that sweet, sweet nectar. She pats the mass, apparently somewhere sensitive given the squawk that issues forth and makes her wince slightly at the volume, but she sidles past the obstacle and blinks her way into the kitchen.

Darcy thinks it’s the kitchen anyway. She’s not sure where her glasses have gone, but there’s something blackish that’s making hissing noises, so she’s guessing it’s the stove. Leaning over she shoves her face close to the counter and working in a fairly organized grid pattern attempts to discover where any additional coffee may be hiding. Both eyes are open now, if only halfway, but she doesn’t see anything that looks vaguely percolator shaped.

Making the noise that Jane once described as, “helpless baby pandas meet their fate in the jaws of starved velociraptors”, she closes her eyes and laments that wish fulfillment isn’t a thing. There is no coffee to be had in all the land. There will never be consciousness again. The gods that provide the Elixir of Life have forsaken her. The Bringer of Consciousness has left the buil… wait, what? Darcy inhales deeply, humming curiously as the smell of what she’d guess is a nice dark Sumatran blend drifts closer. She’s vaguely aware of a muffled laugh from somewhere else in the room as she sways in place, following the heavenly scent as it moves back and forth somewhere in front of her. Gathering all her energy, she manages to crank one eye open long enough to register Robbie waving a large mug of coffee under her nose. Literally waving. Back and forth, from side to side. 

The growl she issues gets an alarmed yowl from Monty as he dashes to her side with his tail poofed out. 

“Sir, I think you may be in danger of losing that hand if you don’t turn over the goods immediately.”

Darcy nods so hard her glasses fall from her hair and land slightly painfully in place on her nose. Ah, that’s where they went.

“James, I think you may be right.”

She can tell they’re finding all this highly amusing and she’ll make them regret it later but right now Robbie is gently pressing the mug into her grasping hands and she’s clutching it like a lifeline as she brings it to her lips. Oh yeah, that’s the stuff. She can’t help it when her hips start to twitch and she’s so happy she’s shaking her ass in her Happy Coffee dance. If she had a tail it’d be whipping from side to side in ecstasy.

She holds out the mug for a refill with a hopeful sort of trill and beams as she hears the sound of more lovely coffee filling her mug. She manages to get one eye open all the way, and oh, that’s why. He’s got a French press. Way too small though. Will have to fix that today. Once sentences form. Speaking English good! Robbie’s grinning openly at her and out of the corner of her eye she can see Hathaway too. He’s all red for some reason, but there’s a small smile quirking the corners of his lips.

She finishes her second cup of coffee while standing in the kitchen. She’s totally in Robbie’s way as he tries to finish cooking breakfast, but he doesn’t try to make her move. The man was married, he probably knows when not to try a woman’s patience. She pours the remains of the press into her mug and automatically moves to make more. The electric kettle is heating and she opens the cupboard Robbie points to. Ah, grounds. Excellent.

Even better, there’s a jar of instant coffee granules. She removes this as well, and after rinsing the press and setting it up for the next batch of coffee, fishes in the silverware drawer for a spoon. Unscrewing the top on the instant coffee, she adds a couple of spoonfuls to her half filled mug. She’s aware of Hathaway looking on in either awe or horror as she alternates sips from her mug with small spoonfuls of the instant coffee, eaten like yogurt from a cup.

Robbie’s looking at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just narrows her eyes at him. He holds his hands up in the universal, “don’t shoot!” pose and doesn’t bring them back down until she sniffs in disdain and shuffles over to the counter. She’s just sitting down when he slides plates in front of her and Hathaway, and he brings another stool around to the other side of the counter so he can hold a quiet conversation with his partner while she waits for the caffeine to kick in.

It’s only about ten minutes later but she’s nearly done eating when she finally feels the usual morning fog lift. “Sorry,” she croaks out. “I should’ve warned you. You need to give me like half an hour to come up to consciousness. Unless it’s a true emergency. Otherwise,” and here she indicates the now sadly depleted instant coffee jar, “I need a jumpstart if you want me to talk.”

“And if it’s actually an emergency?” Hathaway sounds curious and not unsympathetic.

“Then no one cares if I take my ‘lack of coffee’ feels out on whoever caused the emergency.” She yawns and stretches, arms high over her head. “Why are you blushing?” Hathaway’s gone all red again, and Robbie looks amused. She looks down. Oh. Right. No bra yet and she’d apparently lost the pajama top last night and has been wandering around in a camisole this entire time. Well, that should be plenty of compensation for stealing his coffee.

“Sir, perhaps we should….” Eyes wide, Hathaway’s jerking his head not so subtly at the door.

“Should… what?” Robbie looks like he’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. He grins, and it’s weirdly endearing, seeing as he’s just shoved half a piece of toast in his mouth. 

“Be on time for work?” It’s a valiant effort, but ultimately fails to budge his boss.

“We’ve loads of time yet. And I’ve not finished me breakfast.” Robbie nods down at his plate.

“Well, if we have the time then I’m going to go have a cigarette. Excuse me.” Hathaway doesn’t quite flee, but it’s a close thing.

Robbie and Darcy contemplate each other over their mugs. “You’ve a gift, girl.”

“I know.”

“Use it wisely.”

Darcy snorts. “Where’s the fun in that?” She gets a full on laugh from Robbie at that, and they clink mugs. “Besides, he could probably use a bit of shaking up every once in a while.”

“Yeah, but don’t take it too far. He’s a bit….” Robbie trails off.

“Inexperienced?”

“Not quite right but it’s close enough. He’s not fragile, exactly, but he is a little brittle. Don’t hit him too hard, please.”

Darcy raises her right hand. “I do so solemnly swear to raise his heart rate and improve his circulation by only a little bit, so help me Thor.” And wasn’t the resulting look on Robbie’s face interesting. She files it away for examination once her damn brain is back online.

“He’s not wrong though. We do have to get moving soon. What are your plans for today?”

“I dunno yet. I was thinking I’d make dinner. Bring that one,” she points to where they can see Hathaway smoking and checking his phone. “Anyone else? I really don’t cook for less than half a dozen people.”

“I’ll check to see if Laura’s free.” Robbie finishes his toast and collects their plates.

“Is that the feisty doctor? Go ahead and leave them on the counter. I’ll clean up in just a bit.” Darcy cradles her mug and ponders her day. “I don’t really have many plans today. I’m still pretty pooped, to be honest. Maybe a little bit of shopping, and then the market for supplies for dinner. Mexican sound good? Oh hey, any allergies or foods that shouldn’t be eaten?”

“Have I ever even had Mexican food?” Robbie looks thoughtful. “None that I know about, though it might be good to make anything hot an option. Like… what are those little peppers?”

Darcy blinks at him. “Jalapenos?”

“Yeah, them. I think James has a fireproof throat and I quite like spicy myself, but I’m not entirely sure about Laura.” 

Darcy opens her mouth to make a snarky comment about a taste for spicy things but thinks better of it at the last moment. 

“Well, I’d offer you my car but I probably need to do some paperwork to add another driver. Will you be okay without one?” He’s moving with purpose now, collecting his suit jacket and his phone.

“Yeah, cabs are fine.”

“Right. Don’t forget the keys, you have my number, and give us a shout if you need anything.”

She smiles. He’s really very sweet. “Will do. Have a good day at work.”

Robbie mock pouts. “Paperwork is all I have to look forward to today.”

She gestures to Hathaway. “Ah, but what a view to work with.” She gets an eye roll and a kiss on the cheek before he’s out the door and closing it behind him. She watches as he strides out to his car, and after a brief discussion with his partner, they both slip into their respective vehicles and head off to the station for the day.

Silence settles over the flat, and Darcy enjoys the last of her coffee. “Well Monty, what shall we do today?” The cat stares back at her, and then yawns, flashing sharp teeth. “You’re right. Shopping first. Mama needs a little something new.”

*****

Darcy collapses in a tired heap on the couch. Monty immediately picks a favorite out of all the shopping bags she and Barton have carried in, and she smiles at the rummaging, rustling sounds he’s making among the tissue paper. Cats and bags and boxes. A match made in heaven.

She’s gotten quite a lot done in just a few hours. Since Barton’s supposed to be keeping an eye on her anyway, she recruited him as driver and muscle for a fairly short jaunt through Oxford’s various shopping districts. Really, the amount of whining he’d done about the amount of work she’d asked him to do was totally out of proportion. She went in less than a couple dozen shops, and hardly bought anything given she’s now got an unlimited budget. Just a few pairs of sweet heels, some seriously kick ass boots, a couple of new sweaters, and two pairs of jeans. She’d found an excellent vintage coat that was actually cut in a way to accommodate all her various charms without making her look like she was wearing a parka, which was nigh on miraculous. She’d ducked into a store that sold lovely luggage and gotten a larger bag for her return trip, and a better wallet besides. A few accessories to complement the stuff she’d bought and that was it.

Well, and the grocery shopping. The local supermarket and the covered market had most of what she needed, and she’d been able to improvise substitutions for everything else. Luckily she’d been able to find a blender as well, because while she’s fine drinking tequila shots with dinner, she’s not sure anyone else would be. Margaritas from scratch sounds like the ticket, but she texts Robbie about beer preferences anyway, and when she doesn’t hear back, reluctantly texts Hathaway with the same question. He responds nearly immediately, distracting her from staring at a slim, dark haired young man. For a moment, she would’ve sworn it was Ian. By the time she’d looked up from her phone again, whoever the man was? He’d disappeared.

She’ll pick up their favorite beers, and if they’ve got a Mexican beer brand she’ll get that too. 

And then Barton tried to brain her with an avocado thrown at her head like a grenade, and it took all her restraint not to start what would’ve turned into a guacamole fight in the produce aisle. Someone had to be an adult here, and it wasn’t going to be Clint.

Darcy’s making something that isn’t entirely authentically Mexican, but she has made it before. Tequila Lime chicken is sufficiently easy that she can accomplish it without too much effort, and the Mexican rice and refried black beans are easy additions to the plate. Fairly simple, not too heavy, and very tasty besides.

She’s also glad she’d taken the time to look around Robbie’s kitchen before she went out. The man obviously didn’t cook much, as he barely had any pots or pans. She’d managed to grab all the other things she needed when she found the blender. Along with a few freezer containers in case there were leftovers.

And an phone dock that she’ll hook into the stereo in just a moment. She’d looked for a USB connection earlier but hadn’t found one on his somewhat dated, but still perfectly serviceable system. Since the chicken needed some time to marinade, Darcy reluctantly climbs to her feet and picks up some of the bags that contain the stuff she needs. Monty pops a head up briefly, but since he’s made a cozy loaf on top of the Louboutin shoe boxes, he simply shoots her a disgruntled look at being disturbed and settles back down again. 

She wants to wear her new jeans tonight, because they make her ass look fucking fantastic and she’s got killer new shoes to showcase. Perhaps a quick spot of unpacking and a quick bit of laundry wouldn’t go amiss. She hasn’t listened to her tunes all day, having been subjected to Barton’s idea of music in the car, but the “driver picks the music and shotgun shuts their cakehole”. It’s reason enough to look for a car, she thinks. Oh, speaking of cake, she should get the flan going as well. Darcy originally wanted to do a tres leche cake, but there’s not enough time before dinner to do it right. Maybe some other time, possibly with fajitas? Hmm, she would really prefer to do those on an actual grill. Ah well.

Darcy swiftly configures the new music equipment and is soon bopping around the flat to her “I tased a man in Puento Antiguo” playlist. It doesn’t take long to strip the tags from her new clothes and get them going in the washer. She takes a moment to text both men about an ETA for this evening. Robbie responds this time, while she’s washing the new pots, pans and baking equipment. It looks like they’d be home later than anticipated. And Laura will be arriving around 7:30 or so. She shoots back a smiling emoticon and a request for them to pick up a bag of ice on the way home.

Right, time for dessert. She’s got the caramel started, and tends to it while she sets out a number of ramekins in a larger dish. Individual dessert portions are easier to serve and they can eat them right out of the dishes, which means a few less plates to wash later. Any leftovers will be easier to store later too. She’s definitely going to be playing package Tetris in the fridge. There’s quite a few things that need to remain cold, and it’s definitely a lot smaller fridge than she’s used to. She’s glad she picked up small cooler for the beer though, because there was no way that was going to fit. 

Everything with the orange-coffee flan goes so smoothly it’s hard to believe she’s been at this for nearly half an hour already. The washer is already done, so she tucks the wet clothes into the dryer and turns her attention to the meat. It really doesn’t take very long to get the marinade ready and all the chicken breasts into the mixture and into the fridge. The flan is about ready to come out, and she’s got the time and the ingredients to make up a batch of Mexican brownies, she goes ahead and gets the batter for those ready too. She’s not sure if any of tonight’s diners have ever actually had flan. Mexican food doesn’t seem to be very popular over here, and she figures brownies are always a good backup option. The cinnamon and the cayenne she’s using as a substitute for her preferred pequin chili powder in the brownies will go with tonight’s theme. The timer goes off for the flan, and she carefully removes them to cool, then bumps the oven temp up for the brownies. By the time the oven is ready, the brownies are prepped to go in and she sets the timer as she turns her attention to the other ingredients for tonight’s feast. 

Most of the fresh stuff needs to be sliced or chopped shortly before she starts cooking for the evening, so she simply makes sure the cans are neatly stacked with the opener next to them somewhere in the middle of the counter, and she turns to wash the fresh vegetables. She also cleans the new cutting boards and knives now so she doesn’t have to do it later, and then all the baking equipment while she’s at the sink. Darcy will ask Robbie if he has a preference for where it should all go later, but for now, she just hand dries everything and sets it all out of way.

The timer on the brownies goes as she’s wiping off the countertop, and she removes the pan and sets it on the new baking rack to cool. Okay, now that she can see everything in use, she has to admit that maybe Clint had a point about the shopping. But he’ll probably be swinging by to check in on her before he retires for the night, and she’ll send him off with a few containers, so honestly, he shouldn’t have been bitching about helping to carry it all. And it’s not like it’s actually all that much. Darcy has very firm ideas on what constitutes the essentials of kitchen equipment, and this is the absolute bare minimum she needs to make tonight’s dinner successfully.

She indulges in a shot of some very nice tequila as a reward for being so well organized while she ponders what to do next. She’s got plenty of time for a shower and a nap before the boys arrive. Monty’s decided that the couch is a better option for sleeping, so she grabs her new suitcase and all the bags with her new shoes and retires to the bedroom to strip.

Darcy takes her time in the shower. There’d been a little shop in the covered market that sold lots of lovely smelling things. She’d picked up one of each of the soaps from a company in Snowdonia, wherever the hell that may be, and a couple of body oils from their skin care line. She also grabbed a few bath melts and some other nice things for when she’s got a little more time to indulge. As it is, she’s rinsing the last of her new conditioner from her hair when she hears the dryer switch off. Excellent.

Her hair is wrapped in one towel and she’s tucked another around her well moisturized body as she pads back into the kitchen. The flan is cool enough to slip onto the shelf in the fridge that she’s left bare for just this reason, and it doesn’t take long at all to pluck her clothes from the dryer. She remembers to snag her phone from the dock and sets an alarm before quickly folding and hanging up the laundry as appropriate. Once that’s done, she slides gratefully between the sheets and fades out for a little while.

*****

She’s slipping on her brand new pair of Decollete 312 heels when her phone rings. Ah hell. It’s Ian. “Hello?”

“Darcy! How are you?” Ian sounds cheerful, and cautious.

“Fine, and you?” Darcy paces back and forth a little. It’s been a while since she’s worn heels this high, and she figures starting with the slightly thicker heels versus stilettos right off the bat will be kinder to her calves. They’re the most sensible of the shoes she bought, if you don’t count the low boots, and she figures she should start breaking them in.

And she was totally right. Her ass looks amazing in these jeans with these heels on.

“I’m great. Hey, you sound different. Did you get a new phone?” 

“Yeah, actually I did.” She pulls back and squints at her Starkphone, like it has any answers for her about why he’s calling. “So, why are you calling? I said I’d be away for a few days and for you to contact Jane if you had any questions.”

“Oh, yeah, I got that but I thought I’d check in with you anyway.” His voice sounds muffled, like he’s got one hand over the microphone, and she can hear a few low voices in the background.

She can also hear a key in the lock on the door to the flat. “Look, Ian, I gotta go. My friends are here. Call Jane if you need anything, don’t call me and we’ll all sync back up when I’m back. Later!” She hands up and stares at her phone again for a moment. There’s really something not quite right here, but she’s pulled out of the moment by voices in the living room.

“Well. Someone’s been busy.” Robbie sounds impressed. 

“Don’t you dare touch the brownies before dinner!” she hollers as she slips a snug but casual shirt with a deep scoop neck on over her new bra. A little light make up had been applied earlier, mostly just a touch of mascara and eyeliner to bring out her eyes behind her glasses, and a bit of lipstick. She’s not even bothered trying to corral her curls, instead sweeping it all up into another messy bun. She steps back for a moment to take in her reflection in the mirror.

God damn. She’d totally do her, given the chance.

Darcy shakes her head and laughingly blows herself a kiss. She’s perfectly happy to schlep around in jeans and t-shirts, but it’s nice to make a little bit of an effort sometimes. Her biggest criteria is that whatever she’s wearing be comfortable, and aside from the shoes, everything she’s got on fits the bill, and that’s only because she hasn’t broken in the shoes yet.

She’s in a great mood, and practically skips down the hallway to say hello and after a quick peek at her phone for the time, to start cooking.

“It smells fantastic in here, pet.” Robbie holds up two sweating bags of ice. “Where would you like this?”

“Awesome, that’s more than enough. Add one to the cooler to ice down the beers, and set the other in the sink for now? I’ll start the margaritas in a moment.” She grins at both the men. They look a bit tired, but Robbie smiles at her and Hathaway does his little quirky lip thing while he’s taking his tie off, so it couldn’t have been all that bad at work today.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Such a polite young man. She ponders for a moment. “How are you at chopping vegetables?”

“Well, I’m not certified or anything but I’m sure I can manage.” Right. Polite but snarky. He has potential, that one. 

“How about you start opening the cans, and while you’re doing that? Robbie, I picked up, um, a few things for your kitchen.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He nods to the still-not-very-big-in-her-opinion stack of new kitchenware. 

“Maybe you can tell me where you want it put away, and then I can put Hathaway to work on the veggies while I wrangle the margaritas?”

It doesn’t take very long to put the bakewear and the pots she won’t be using tonight away, since a lot of the shelves in the cabinets are mostly empty anyway. “What’s next?” There’s a knock at the door. 

“Keep Laura company, obviously.” He rolls his eyes but goes to let their friend in. Darcy takes the opportunity to cross to the stereo and get her “Southwest atmo” playlist up and running. Hathaway quirks an eyebrow as the first notes of a Spanish guitar fill the air, but nods approvingly.

Her sous chef for the evening has completed his task with the cans, so she hands him one of the new cutting boards and offers him his choice of three knives. The fourth one is smaller, fits her hand well and is so well balanced it’s a joy to use, and she sets that out of the way with another cutting board and a bowl of limes. “I need a diced onion, a chopped onion, both yellow please. Maybe a bulb and a half of minced garlic, and a sliced jalapeno? I also need these two hunks of cheese shredded, in separate piles please.” He’s nodding and testing the knives to see which one works best for him. “Do you know how to make pico de gallo?”

“I do not.” He’s selected a knife and starts in on the yellow onions.

“It’s totally easy. Dice up three red onions, and all the Roma tomatoes. Rough chop two cups or so of cilantro, and let’s do one very finely diced jalapeno with as much of the membrane and seeds scraped out as you can, with another one on the side if people want to add more heat. Then just mix it all up in a bowl with the juice of at least half a lime, and voila! Fresh and tasty goodness.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

Robbie and Laura have wandered in and after a round of hellos, have taken seats at the counter. “Who wants a mango margarita and who wants a classic?”

“Oh, mango for me, definitely.” Hathaway’s nodding.

“Classic for me please, light salt on the rim.” Laura smiles at Darcy. Gosh, the doc is pretty.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Robbie says, watching the goings on with interest. “Are you sure we can’t do anything to help?”

“Nah. You’ve got a tiny kitchen. There’s only so much room. I think we’ll probably be ready to eat in less than half an hour, if you can hold on that long.”

Everyone is nodding and conversation flows freely. Darcy will admit that she wouldn’t mind a few less details about bodies as her pre-dinner entertainment, but considering who she’s cooking for she figures it’s inevitable and tunes out the worst details. It helps when Hathaway asks what kind of cheese the white one is, and she wracks her brain trying to come up with the history of Monterey Jack cheese. It doesn’t take her long to make up a batch of classic margaritas, and she serves them up with a flourish. “Sorry about the plastic stemware, but I figured regular glasses would probably not be used very often.” She slides the rest of the batch into a plastic pitcher and tucks it into the ice in the cooler. Rinsing the carafe, she makes quick work of the mango version and after sugaring the rim, slides one in front of Hathaway before pouring one for herself.

“Cheers,” he says, and they touch rims. He looks quite pleased after his first sip, and she smiles as she turns away to get the oven warming and the rice started. It’s been a long time since she’s felt this content, in her element in the kitchen, listening to friends chatter away while she prepares delicious things with which they can stuff their faces. Definitely before Thor landed in New Mexico. Not that they didn’t enjoy a wonderful few meals together during that visit, but there was an underlying tension while they tried to work out whether Thor was actually, you know, Thor or if he was just a large, kind of sweet, muscled and totally delusional whackjob. Plus a lot of time was spent explaining everything to their new friend. The mug smashing incident in the diner was but one example.

No, she muses as she melts some butter in another skillet and starts heating the beans, she’d probably have to go back to her the year of college in which she’d shared a house with four other girls. In an effort to save money and learn some life skills, they’d taken turns making dinner based on their respective schedules. She wonders where her former housemates have gotten to in the past few years as she adds the final ingredient to the rice and covers the pot. 

“Anything else I can do?” Hathaway’s done with all the items she’s asked him to help with. “Set the table, perhaps?”

“If you could grab the silverware and some napkins that would be great. I think it might be easier to have everyone make up their own plate in the kitchen and then sit, versus trying to find enough serving dishes.” He nods and does as she’s asked, then gifts her with another small smile and wanders over to join his boss and the doctor. 

Darcy mashes the black beans while she’s waiting for the rice to finish cooking, then turns the heat off and scoops the contents into a serving bowl. She used to hate refried beans until she learned a better way to make them from the lady at the diner in New Mexico. These won’t be as good, since she’s using canned vs dried beans, but they should still be fairly tasty. She cuts up a few more limes and adds the wedges to a bowl she sets on the breakfast counter, then adds the rice to the casserole dish and covers it with cheese before sliding it into the oven to finish cooking. 

Half the chicken breasts hit the grill pan and begin searing, and she takes a moment to wash the pans she used for the beans and the rice while she can. She’s found it’s better to clean up as she goes instead of waiting until after they’ve eaten. It’s hard to face a mountain of dirty dishes when you’re stuffed full of good food. She and her housemates had learned that early on in the dinner rotation. There’s nothing like getting bitched out by the person you’re trusting to feed you when you’ve made them wash a bunch of dirty dishes before they can even get dinner started.

She takes a moment to flip the chicken so the other side can cook, then hand dries the pans and puts them away where Robbie’s indicated they should go. Setting out a couple of cookie sheets, she lays out some corn and a few flour tortillas for warming in the oven once the rice is done. By this time, the first batch of chicken is done and she slides them to a plate and covers them with some grated white cheese. It can melt on the hot meat while it’s resting, and she’s just finished setting the other half of the meat on the grill when the rice timer goes off. She turns off the oven and removes the pan to a trivet, then slides the tortillas in to warm. It’s the work of a few moments to slice up a couple of avocados, and she sets the plate with them and the container of sour cream on the counter along with the limes and a small dish holding the other sliced jalapeno before returning to the grill to flip the chicken.

She sticks serving spoons in anything that needs one and surveys the countertop. OK, she’s officially hungry. Everything looks fantastic. Darcy removes the tortillas from the oven and tosses them over a couple of cooling racks before sliding the hot pans back in the oven for now. She turns off the grill and tops the second set of chicken breasts with cheese, then wipes her hands and stoops to take the margarita pitchers out of the cooler. “Anyone need a refill? Or a beer? I think I’m just about done.” They all top up their glasses and by the time they’re done with that, dinner is ready to be served. 

“Darcy, this looks amazing!” Laura’s surveying the feast spread before them. “I can’t believe you have everything done at the same time. I never quite manage that.”

“Well, I did have a bit of help.” She winks at Hathaway who looks a little uncomfortable before taking pity. “Right, so. You can either have the chicken as is, or you can add bits of everything to a tortilla and make a soft taco or burrito.” She takes a moment to demonstrate, neatly slicing one of the chicken breasts into strips. She smears a bit of the beans on one side of a corn tortilla, adds a bit of the rice, then a couple of strips of chicken. “A dab of sour cream, a spoonful of the pico de gallo, a couple of slices of avocado and a sprinkle of cheese and voila!” She holds up her finished soft taco. “Don’t fill it too full or it’ll all just fall out when you go to bite into it. And if you want a burrito, it’s basically all the same steps, only you fold it like this.” She shows them the right way to fold one of the flour tortillas. “That way it doesn’t all spill out the bottom when you go to eat from the open end. See?”

They all nod and Hathaway gestures at Laura to begin filling her plate. “Ladies first.” She rolls her eyes at him, but gives him a nod of thanks. 

“Oh, and save room for dessert. There’s flan or brownies. Or both, if you’ve got room.”

After everyone has their plates she makes up a couple of burritos for Barton, and makes sure she sprinkles the broken pieces of his little audio bug over both items. There’s an extra container of rice and beans, and another for extra toppings. She slides a baggie of the brownies in along with it all, and upends one of the ramekins with a flan into a round tupperware sort of thing. He won’t care if it doesn’t look pretty as long as it tastes good. She slips in some of the plastic flatware from the box she’d snagged at the store, ties the top of the bag and parks it in the cooler for now. Her babysitter should be stopping by shortly to check in on her.

“Alright everyone. One request before we start eating. Lean in close and smile? I want to send a picture to Jane so she knows I’m still alive.” Darcy notices Hathaway’s smile fade a bit when Robbie leans in close to Laura and slings an arm around her so they can all fit into the shot, but they all look great together. “Oh, that’s nice. Thanks. And dig in while it’s still warm, please!”

The next few minutes are fairly quiet aside from the occasional appreciative comment about the food.

“So. Family. How about that.” Laura grins at Darcy over her glass. She’s driving, so she’d asked for a virgin margarita after she’d finished her second one. “I know Robbie’s obviously benefited from having a pretty, young female relative, but I’m not sure what you’re getting out of it.” Robbie makes a sound of protest but can’t speak up as his mouth is full of food. “Cousins, did you say?”

Darcy smiles at Laura. “Yep. Though honestly, we’re so distantly related that we could get married in Texas without breaking the law, let alone Virginia. And we can basically shag in all fifty states and Puerto Rico with no one batting an eye.”

She casually reaches out and whacks Hathaway on the back. He appears to have choked on a bite of chicken and is grasping for his bottle of beer, eyes watering heavily. Must’ve gotten a bit of jalapeno in that bite. Robbie’s covered his eyes with one hand, but his shoulders are shaking. Hobson doesn’t bother trying to hide her cackle of glee.

“I mean, he’s not bad to look at. Seems pretty kind. I wouldn’t even have to change my name, and never underestimate the attractive lure of being able to avoid a lot of bureaucracy.” She smiles brightly. “Thor might want to talk to you about how many goats, sheep and cattle you’re prepared to offer for my hand though.” She’s timed it well, and leans to the side to avoid the spray of beer when Robbie performs a beautiful, classic spit take.

There’s not even any sound coming from Laura anymore, just the occasional snorting kind of gasp that comes from laughing so hard you can’t breathe. 

Darcy smiles. “Seriously though. Our last common ancestor was a great great grandfather Carson, I think. There’s a diagram or table or chart about the relevant degrees of consanguinity in that packet of research if you’re really interested.”

Laura nods, looking thoughtful, but anything else she might have said is interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. Robbie goes to answer it, and she can hear Barton’s voice asking if she’s available. “Yeah, that one’s okay to let in. I mean, he’s not okay, I’m pretty sure he’s landed on his head a few too many times, but you can let him in.” Robbie shakes his head but opens the door wider and ushers her minder into the flat before closing the door and returning to his chair.

“Everyone, this is Clint. Clint, this is everyone.” Barton nods at everyone, looking businesslike but friendly. Then he whistles low and slow when she rises from the table to retrieve the bag with his portions of tonight’s dinner from the cooler. “Did you buy all that this afternoon?”

Darcy preens a little. “Yes, yes I did.”

“Damn. If I’d known you were going to look that good in what you’d bought, I’d have helped you buy more. Do a little spin for us, that’s a girl. I bet your ass looks fantastic in those jeans.” Barton winks at her, letting her know he’s getting her back for the UPS uniform comments.`

Darcy opens her mouth to tell Barton where he can shove an arrow when the sound of chairs scraping the floor and a loud shout of, “OI!” surprises them both. Robbie and Hathaway are standing, with fierce looks on both their faces, and Robbie’s got his hands clenched. “Shut your filthy mouth!”

Between herself and Clint, Darcy’s not sure which of the two of them is more shocked by this unexpected outburst. “What the hell?”

“You don’t talk to Darcy that way, not in my home.” Robbie’s scowling in a way she didn’t think he could manage, being generally so easy going and sweet, and Hathaway looks pretty damn thunderous himself as he looms at his partner’s shoulder. “Apologize. Now.”

“Uh, whoa there. I can take care of myself, and I can certainly hold my own against Barton of all people. I don’t need either of you two meatheads escalating what is clearly not a situation.” Darcy’s beginning to get pissed. “I’m not someone you’ve gotta save from the big bad paramilitary spysassin… okay, that sounds kind of bad but still. I got this.”

Robbie flushes even darker with anger and Darcy’s a little worried about his blood pressure when a gentle, “Ahem,” has them all turning to the petite woman still sitting at the table. Laura’s holding her margarita glass by the stem between lazy fingers and almost lazily cuts through the sudden cloud of testosterone with a simple observation. 

“What I think they are trying to explain, in their emotionally stunted way, is that you don’t have to. It’s not that they don’t think you can take care of yourself. It’s that it would be their privilege to defend you. So you don’t break a nail. Or muss your hair. Or ruin those gorgeous shoes by kicking him someplace sensitive. That sort of thing.”

Darcy isn’t sure what expression is on her face right now, but the boys are nodding emphatically, looking relieved that Laura’s on hand to help interpret all these messy feelings.

“Hmm.” She squints at Hathaway, who looks nervous, which grows to faintly alarmed as she allows the moment to stretch.

“What?”

“Oh, just pondering your dry cleaning bill when you drape your suit coat over a puddle for me to walk over.”

That does the trick, and the tension clears. Even Hathaway’s mouth tips up at the corners. “I do hope you’ll understand if I carry you across any prospective puddles instead. I’ve lost enough suits to the job, thanks.”

“Yes, did they ever stop taking the piss out of you for your adventures in the macerator down at the station?”

Hathaway glares at his boss as they return to the table. Clint blinks at Darcy. “Did that just happen?”

She smiles, slowly. “Yeah, I think it did.”

“Huh. I think I like them better than I did before.”

Darcy nods. “Probably best if you take this and make like a tree. I notice you didn’t apologize, and they’re going to remember that too in a moment.”

“Ah, yeah. Well, thanks for the grub. You’re in for the night?” She nods and Clint turns to go.

“Oh, and Clint?” Darcy steps closer, staring at his mouth and turning on the bedroom eyes as she coyly looks up into his face.

“Yeah?” Clint holds the bag out to one side and automatically reaches to pull her closer with one arm. 

Which would be why he’s not prepared when she brings a knee up and nails him directly in the groin.

Barton doubles over with a pained groan, and drops the bag with the food. She grabs a handful of the hair at the back of his neck and pulls his head back so his watering eyes can meet hers. “You should be so lucky to have me model for you. Next time, ask. Don’t demand. Not that I’ll agree, but it’s the principle of the thing.” She steps around him briefly to open the door, scoops the bag of food off the floor and returns to stand in front of him. “Just think, it could’ve been worse. I could’ve cooked you a little bit with my new taser!” she says cheerfully. 

With that, she plants her left foot and uses her well shod right to gently, but firmly, kick him out the door where he lands on his back with a grunt, still clutching at his manparts. She drops the bag of food on his chest and gently smiles down at him. “See you tomorrow. Let me know what you think of the brownies.”

Darcy kicks his legs out of the way, firmly closes the door with a sigh and turns to the sound of applause. Laura goes so far as to provide a shrill whistle of approval as she stands to offer Darcy a hug. “That was glorious to watch. Well done!” She turns to Robbie, one arm slung behind Darcy’s back in a half hug. “Can we keep her? Please tell me we can keep her.”

Darcy beams, delighted.

Robbie is looking back and forth between Laura and Darcy, and frowning. He turns to James. “Reckon we might have made a mistake, introducing those two.”

“Undoubtedly,” his sergeant says on a sigh, swallowing the shot of straight tequila he’s poured for himself.

It’s a great night. Darcy’s treated to any number of stories about the work the three of them do together, many of them far funnier than the would have thought they’d be. She gets an explanation about the macerator, and winces on Hathaway’s behalf even as she fantasizes shoving Loki into a device just like it. But wow. Midnight Addiction. She’s impressed but sad at the same time. Poor Richie. How must he feel after thinking his love, his Esme had returned from the dead only to find out it was a scam and a lie?

The stories roll on, and Darcy finds herself contributing a few. A whole whack of them revolve around Thor, naturally. How they met, when she hit him with the van and then tased him. She notices Hathaway’s moved his chair a little bit farther away from her after she finishes telling that one. Leaving the hospital only to hit Thor again with the car, though she assures them all that the second time was all Jane’s fault. She talks about the “ANOTHER!” moment in the diner, and there’s hilarity all around when she recounts the tale of how he asked for a steed at the pet shop. 

She shares a few about Jane too. The roadtrips, with a whole side thread about ridiculous roadside attractions in various states. She spends a fair amount of time trying to describe the American plains, the Rockies and the southwest to the trio of island dwellers. The entire United Kingdom has a land mass that’s only a little bit larger than South Dakota, after all, so it’s a bit of an uphill battle. She does score a few sympathy points while describing her futile, but earnest efforts to try to learn a enough Norwegian to not feel like stereotypical American asshole when they were working in Tromsø.

Laura has everyone in stitches as she tells a few whoppers about her medical students. Hathaway offers up a couple of misadventures that have Laura and Robbie riveted on his every word. She gets the feeling he doesn’t talk much about his past, and the story set during his Cambridge years in particular holds their attention. 

Robbie tells a few whoppers about his early years in uniform that has his partner commenting on how very glad he is that he came in on a fast track scheme, skipping the uniform years. And then Robbie shares a couple of interesting tidbits from his own time as a sergeant. He and Laura reminisce about Morse, and she can see Hathaway filing every tiny bit of information away. Robbie must not talk about his former partner very often then. God, men. They can’t ever just talk to each other about the things that matter. Darcy’s just glad to see that tonight’s stories aren’t burdened with the air of melancholy and complicated emotions that she can sense in her cousin every time Morse is mentioned. 

The laughter and the stories continue for a long time, broken only by a brief break to stretch and serve dessert. 

Darcy checks her phone to see a text from Jane. Her boss is delighted by the photo sent earlier, demands stories upon her return to London, and mentions that Ian had called earlier in the day and she’d let him know Darcy was in Oxford. Darcy frowns, but resolves to talk to Clint about her uneasiness about Ian in the morning.

It’s been such a wonderful night. The flan in particular is a great success, and no one seems to mind that they need to dig down to the bottom of the dish to get to the caramel. Laura begs for a couple of the brownies to take home, as well as the recipe. Everyone looks relaxed and happy, or at least as happy as she’s ever seen Hathaway. The men are still in their work clothes, but it’s oddly disconcerting to see the younger man without the armor of his tie and suit jacket. He’s got the first couple of buttons on his shirt undone, and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robbie’s done the same, but it doesn’t have quite the same effect.

Perhaps because his clothes aren’t quite so tight.

Robbie and Hathaway insist on clearing the table and doing the dishes. “Laura’s a guest, and you created nearly everything we ate! You’ve already done most of the washing up for heaven’s sake. We can handle this.” And they do, though Darcy finds it curious that Hathaway’s not included among the “guests”.

It’s oddly charming, the way they move about the kitchen together. Maybe it’s the fact that they’ve been partners for years that allows them to move so fluidly around and through each other’s space. At one point she glances over at Laura, only to find her head cocked to the side, contemplating the same view Darcy herself had been admiring moments ago.

The cut of his trousers across Hathaway’s bottom is a fine sight indeed. “God bless that boy’s tailor,” Laura sighs. Darcy laughs out loud in delight, a little bit tipsy since she doesn’t have to drive anywhere, and they both grin as the back of Hathaway’s neck slowly goes red. He’s standing at the sink doing the washing up while Robbie dries and doing his best to studiously ignore the low voices behind him. Laura turns to Darcy and confides, “Honestly, there’s this one particular pair that he wears that brings all kinds of people down to my work area on all kinds of superfluous errands. And I know for a fact that there’s at least one password protected folder on a server with nothing but artfully cropped camera phone snapshots.”

“I can hear that, you know!” Hathaway doesn’t turn around, but the set of his shoulders makes it obvious that he’s aware of the direction of their gazes and the topic of their conversation.

“I did promise to show you the best parts of Oxford,” Robbie adds, grinning at his sergeant’s discomfort, and tipping to the side a bit to admire the view himself before snapping his wet towel at the tempting target, provoking a startled yelp. The resulting water war leaves both men with semi-transparent shirts and damp splotches on their trousers. They were both breathing a bit heavily too, whether from the exertion or their laughter at their own ridiculous behavior, the women couldn’t really tell.

It was a look. Laura and Darcy were duly appreciative and clinked glasses in solidarity.

*****

The evening winds down shortly after the clean up antics. Darcy is pleasantly full, overlaid with a general sense of goodwill and the fuzzy feels that come from having imbibed just the right amount of alcohol.

“Darcy. It’s been an absolute pleasure.” Laura’s holding Darcy’s hands in hers as they say their goodbyes. “I hope we’ll see more of you. Someone besides me needs to keep these two on their toes.”

“I can see why you need some help,” Darcy replies tartly, winking at Robbie.

“Total mistake sir, letting these two in the same room,” Hathaway mock whispers to his boss. He turns to Darcy. “Thank you. It was a lovely evening, and I quite enjoyed the food. Definitely much nicer than the usual Indian takeaway.” He and Laura are being sent home with a good portion of the leftovers. The rest is in Robbie’s fridge.

Darcy smiles at Hathaway. He’s all right, once you can get around that reserve he wears like armor. “I’m glad you were able to be here. I really enjoy cooking. It’s relaxing, you know?” Hathaway nods. “I don’t usually bother when it was just me and Jane.”

“Well, you can cook for me any time you like,” Robbie says, slinging an arm over her shoulders with a friendly squeeze. “Are we doing anything special tomorrow? Since it’s the weekend and all?”

“Well, if you’re free, wanna show me a bit of Oxford that doesn’t involve shopping? Are either of you free? Shall we make a day of it?” She looks to the two who are gathering their coats. Laura’s going to drop James off at his place since he’s probably over the limit to drive after all that tequila, let alone the beer.

“Alas, I am not. I’m on the rotation and there’s still some work to wrap up from cases this week,” Laura sighs.

“I don’t have any plans,” Hathaway says, looking thoughtful. 

“I think we can probably manage a guided tour of the city, James, if you’d like to join us? We’ll pick you up mid-morning, go for lunch, make a day of it.” Robbie looks like he’s already working out an itinerary in his head.

“I’d love to.” An actual, real smile from Hathaway. Amazeballs.

“Great, we’ll give you a ring when we’re about to leave.” Plan made, they say their goodbyes and Robbie shuts and locks the door with a satisfied sigh. Darcy kicks off her shoes and sprawls onto the couch. Monty, who’d spent most of the evening under the coffee table when he wasn’t trying to get to the chicken, emerges and hops up on her lap with an inquisitive trill. “I think he might like you better than he likes me, the little sod.” Robbie eases down onto the couch with his own sigh of contentment and reaches over to stroke the cat.

“It’s just because I’m still new. The novelty will wear off soon enough and I won’t be able to coax him into a petting session without a bribe.” They sit for a little bit, listening to Monty’s happy purring.

“Listen, Darcy.” Robbie rubs at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable and a little sheepish. “I wanted to apologize if I overstepped there with your friend. I just… I just reacted the way I probably would have if someone had said those things to our Lyn.”

“Your daughter?” Darcy’s a little startled.

“Yeah. I mean, I know you’ve got a father and….”

“I don’t.” Darcy interrupts him. “Well, I mean I did, obviously. It’s not like I was hatched out of an egg or anything. But I never knew him.” Monty makes a noise of protest, and she realizes she’s got her fingers clenched rather tightly in his fur. She immediately relaxes her hands and smooths the rumpled fur in apology. “I don’t even know who he was. My mother had a short fling with someone, who didn’t stick around. She wound up pregnant, and we lived with her mom, my grandmother the entire time I was growing up.”

Robbie scoots closer to her on the couch and pulls her into his side with an arm around her shoulders again. “I’m sorry, pet. That must’ve been hard.”

Darcy sighs. “We didn’t have much, but it was all right. It was harder when mom died when I was eight. Breast cancer. She hadn’t felt very well for a while, but by the time she could be convinced to spend the money on a doctor it had metastasized and spread too far for treatment to help. It was really swift. Just three months, most of which was spent managing her pain, and she was gone.” 

“Ah, lass.”

“Grammy’s gone too, in case you were wondering. Heart attack the week after my high school graduation. Left me what she could, but it wasn’t much and it definitely wasn’t enough to keep the house. I kept a few things, all of which are in storage in Virgina, but gave sold or gave away everything else. The house I sold to a nice, young family but the profit on that was barely enough to keep me in books and food during college. There was a lot that needed to be done to it, and since I didn’t have the money to fix it up myself we took the cost of the repairs off the asking price.”

Darcy feels a kiss on the side of her head and closes her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. It had been hard to let the only refuge she’d had as a child go, but the couple had been really, really nice and their daughter had been cute as a bug. She hopes they’re making wonderful new memories as a family in what used to be her home. 

“No other family? Brothers or sisters? Aunts or uncles?”

She clears her throat before replying. “No siblings. Mom had a brother out in Montana, but he’s kind of a dick. I think he thought my mom was stupid for keeping me, let alone for getting knocked up in the first place. We got cards at Christmas, and that was about it. Divorced, two kids to support, and I think I only saw him twice my entire life. Both times for the funerals. Grammy had left him a few things in her will, and I let him take a few others since his kids could use them and I had no use for it. It was all pretty cordial. He didn’t contest her leaving me the house, and said he would’ve sold it anyway since his life is pretty firmly planted where he’s at. I think he was actually pretty glad that he wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Monty stands and pads up her chest only to belly flop on her boobs and shove his head under her chin, purring all the while. She smiles at the ridiculous creature. “I’d known for a long time that the only way out of that place was by going to college, and I worked pretty hard to make sure my grades were spectacular. Landed a few scholarships, got accepted at Culver, and left my hometown behind that fall. You pretty much know the rest. Worked a few jobs during college, managed to find housing during the summer near campus, wound up with Jane and the rest is crazy adventure history.”

She turns to regard Robbie. “It might be weird, but what you did was actually kind of nice? I mean, don’t make a habit of it,” and here she mock scowls at him, “because I can take care of myself. I have for a long time. But it was… it was just nice, having someone be so. I dunno. Fierce. On my behalf.”

“Anytime, Darcy. I mean, I’m not saying I’ll fill in as your father, though I would certainly be proud to do so.” And now she really can’t stop the quiet tears from falling. “But we’re family now. I hope you’ll let me help if you need it.” He lifts her face with a finger under her chin. “You’re a hell of a young woman, Darcy Lewis. It’s my pleasure to know you.”

Her voice is thick with tears when she says, “I really hope your kids appreciate you, Robbie Lewis.”

He places an affectionate kiss on her forehead before drawing back a bit. “I think Hathaway showed me how to record a, what’s it, an audio track? On me phone. Let me grab it and you can repeat that so I can play it for Lyn when she’s giving me cheek.”

Darcy can’t help it and slumps forward onto his chest, dislodging Monty who hops down with an indignant meow, and just laughs and laughs and laughs.

They’re both flagging after all the food and the alcohol and the intense discussion, and by mutual consent decide to call it a night. Darcy’s first in the bathroom, and is padding back to her room. Robbie’s just finished securing the flat for the night, and lets out a startled “oof!” when she tacklehugs him around his waist in the hall. “Thanks, Robbie. Just… thanks. Tomorrow’s going to be awesome.”

He squeezes her back, and she lets him go, says goodnight and fairly bounces down the hall to her room. She leaves the door open a crack, in case Monty wants to come cuddle again, and swiftly changes into her jammies. She sets her phone on the nightstand alongside a glass of water and a bottle of paracetamol that Robbie must’ve put there for the morning while she was brushing her teeth. How is this guy even real? She marvels at her luck in finding such awesome family where she never would have expected it, and snuggles down into the warm, comfortable bed with a happy sigh. She has just enough time to register the tell tale feel of a feline jumping on the bed before she slides into sleep with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize there's no stockists for either Louboutin or Jimmy Choo in Oxford, but...*handwaves*. Because _shoes_.
> 
> Also, dammit. Now I'm hungry.


	4. Chapter 4

The smell of a fresh cup of coffee and the feeling of something quite a bit larger than Monty sitting on the bed pulls her out of sleep. Wonder of wonders, it would appear that she’s slept through the night for the second night in a row. Some part of Darcy’s brain makes a note of this fact even as one hand comes up and tries to shove her hair out of the way enough so she can see. 

Robbie, looking far too awake and cheerful in the first casual clothes she’s ever seen him wearing, is holding an oversized travel mug of coffee. She peers at it. “Yes, this is for you. Sit up and I’ll hand it to you. I don’t want you spilling it all over yourself. No need to talk just yet. Get that down your throat and come on out to the kitchen when you’re ready for a refill. We’ve got plenty of time before we need to head out to pick up James. You can shower, and I’ll make breakfast while you’re doing that. It should be ready when you are.”

Darcy manages to flail herself free of the duvet enough to sit up against the headboard. She makes gimmehands at the coffee, and Robbie presses it into them, making sure she’s got a good grip on the mug before patting one of her hands and standing up. “C’mon, ye fuzzy beast. Time for your breakfast.” Monty, her bedmate for the night, stands and stretches languidly before hopping down and trotting after Robbie.

She sips at her delicious, glorious, wonderful coffee while she does an assessment of her physical state. Head’s not too bad, given how many margaritas she’d had to drink last night. Nothing a couple of those pills, some water, a lot of coffee and a hot shower won’t fix. As she expected, her calves and feet aren’t super thrilled with her, and she winces as she wriggles her toes under the covers, but she’s got her favorite pair of Dr Martens in her bag and she’ll wear those around today. The weather forecast was fairly warm with only a chance of rain, according to her phone. She’ll wear something along the same lines as last night, with a sweater and a lightweight rain jacket with a scarf she can put on or take off as needed. A hat should keep her head warm as her hair dries, since she forgot to pick up a hair drier yesterday.

Robbie’s apparently flipping through the paper, based on the rustling noises she can hear as she drains the last of the mug and gathers what she’ll need in the bathroom. Since they’ll be out and about today, and it’s a pain in the ass to deal with glasses in the rain, she decides to put her contacts in and tucks her glasses into their case, then slips the case in her bag.

She doesn’t rush through her shower, but it doesn’t take too long. Maybe if she had more fucks to give about her hair or her makeup it would take a lot of time to get ready. As it is, she simply combs out her hair and tucks it into a towel turban to absorb as much water as possible and it’s just a couple of minutes on her face before she’s back down the hall and getting dressed for the day.

Shoving everything she needs into her bag, she picks up her Docs and sets both by the front door before sleepily walking over to Robbie to place a kiss on his cheek. The fact that she smoothly steals his coffee while he’s distracted has nothing to do with her sudden affection. She gives him a cheeky wink in response to his exasperated look when he goes to reach for his mug only to find her already draining it. “Gotta be smarter than that when there’s coffee to be had, Robbie. Good morning.”

“It speaks!” he says in mock shock, rising to start another pot. Ah, right. She’d been so distracted by making sure she had everything she needed for dinner yesterday that she’d forgotten to grab a coffee machine. The French press made great coffee, but not in the volumes required to get her up and running in the morning. She wonders how he’d feel about an espresso machine, but though she bets Hathaway would be ecstatic to find one sitting on Robbie’s countertop, she figures her cousin is more of a drip man. Hell, maybe she’ll get both. Robbie can always give the espresso machine to Hathaway later if he doesn’t like it, and she’s fine with drip for whenever she comes to visit. 

She beams brightly at Robbie, who pauses in his breakfast preparations. “What’s that for?”

“Nothing. Just… glad to be here is all.”

He softens. “I’m glad you’re here too. It’s been nice. I haven’t laughed like we did last night for a long time. And I certainly haven’t seen James unbend that much in front of someone new since… well, possibly ever.” Darcy gapes at him a little at this. “He’s a bit serious, that one.”

“A bit?” She knows she’s got a hugely skeptical look on her face.

“All right, a lot. He was going to be a priest, you know. Not sure if he mentioned it last night when he was talking about Cambridge, but he took a first in Theology. He ended up in Oxford to go to seminary.” Robbie’s staring down into the pan of eggs like it holds the answers to the universe.

“So I gathered. But how did he go from there to the police of all places?” Darcy’s really puzzled. She knew the facts from the background files JARVIS had sent over, but she’d only glanced over Hathaway’s. The conversation last night that he’d come into the police via some fast track scheme for college graduates made more sense now that she understands how he got there, but that doesn’t tell her why he joined the force.

“Lass, if you find out, let me know. All these years I’ve known him and I still don’t know the answer to that question.” Robbie sighs as he stirs the eggs. “I know some of the reasoning behind it, though he’s very personal and wouldn’t want me sharing that. It’s also a sore spot for him so please don’t press his buttons on that score.” 

Darcy considers this. “I promise. I mean, I may ask at some point, because I’m a nosy wench, but I promise if he doesn’t want to talk about it I won’t press him for details.”

“Thanks. He’ll be the first to tell you to shove off and that it’s none of your business if he doesn’t want you to know. But he does do better with direct questions. If you go at it sideways most of the time he just kind of… talks around you until you’re so turned around you can’t remember what you’d asked him in the first place.”

“Know from personal experience, do you?” 

Robbie’s voice is very wry when he says, “You could say that, yeah. He’s gotten better with me over the years, but getting anything personal out of him can be like pulling teeth. I just….” He sighs. “I think he had a rotten childhood, and he’s got this huge, incredible brain. He’s not the type of clever to show off, at least he hasn’t been since I’ve known him, but he is very, very proud and sometimes not so great with other people. He just likes knowing things. You can imagine how all that together might not have done him any favours at school.”

Darcy nods slowly. “Jane’s a lot like that. She’s always light years ahead of her peers, and has little patience for small minded people. And the pettiness of academics. Oh my god.”

“You’re not wrong there. The stories I could tell you about the Oxford dons.” Robbie’s shaking his head. “Far too many of our cases involve people connected to the University who feel they are above the concerns and the laws of mere mortals. It’s sickening.”

“Well, at least this helps me frame how to approach dealing with him. I mean, Hathaway’s essentially your Jane, only with the authority roles reversed. Jane’s my boss, he’s your sergeant, but they’re both far too smart for their own good and basically are crap at taking care of themselves.”

“Reckon that’s a fair summary, yes.”

“So in essence treat him like a feral cat who’s gotten used to being fed and maybe, every once in a blue moon, will let you stroke his fur before he can’t handle all that TLC and either takes a swipe or flees into the night?” Darcy nods as Robbie bursts into laughter. “Always apologetic afterward, and terribly embarrassed at his own behavior?”

Robbie’s wiping actual tears of laughter from his eyes. “Add in a book or two on an obscure topic to lure him in and stick the plate of food under his nose while he’s distracted. He won’t even notice when you refill the plate until he’s halfway through his second helping.” 

Darcy grins at him. “I’ve done that with Jane. The trouble with her, though, is that she just plain stops eating if whatever she’s reading is engrossing enough. The real danger is when it sparks some train of thought in her head and she dashes out to immediately work on a new theory and abandons the food altogether. Her brain is always, always working. She just doesn’t know when to stop.”

“I’ve probably got it easier there with James. He at least is aware that a certain fitness level is required for the job. He was an athlete too, at school. Rowing. My challenge with him is that he’s so determined to prove to himself that he can do this job and be the best at it that it can be hard to get him to leave work at work. He’s very driven. And sometimes, well.” Robbie frowns as he plates up the food. “I think he uses work as a distraction, and maybe as an excuse not to get too close to people. Your feral cat analogy may be closer to truth than you think.”

He sets the plates down on the table and returns a moment later with the coffee press. “Well then, he’s lucky he’s got you as a friend,” Darcy says, patting his hand before neatly stealing the press from his fingers.

Robbie blinks, then smiles. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the two of you go head to head over the last of the coffee when you both really need it though. Bet I could rake in a fair amount of dosh charging viewing rights to that fight.”

Darcy sniffs in disdain. “Please. I could take that skinny white boy down in a heartbeat without breaking a sweat. Cop or no cop. No one gets between me and coffee when I need it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Robbie says and neatly pours himself a mug full after she’s finished refilling her own.

They don’t linger over breakfast, but it isn’t rushed. Robbie tries to explain what’s so awesome about the black pudding part of a full English breakfast while Darcy gives him her best side eye. He tells her a little bit more about his family, and why people are so weird about his accent sometimes. “It’s kind of a class thing.”

“I… can sort of get it? I mean, there’s tons of regional accents in the States. Lots of people poke fun at accents from the deep South. New Yorkers will always talk shit about people from Boston, and god help you if you’re from Texas or North Dakota. But the class thing. This American doesn’t quite get that.”

“Well, I’m not sure I can quite explain it. James might be able to. And since we’re about to be late picking him up, we should go. You can ask him about it, if you like. I’m warning you now, though, if you do it’ll probably end in hours of history lectures and possibly a syllabus. At the very least, a list of recommended books to read.”

Darcy blinks. “And this would be bad why?”

Robbie blinks back at her in dismay. “What was your degree in, again?”

“Political science. Which involves a lot of….”

“History. Right. Do us a favour? Don’t ask him about it? At least not today.”

“Can’t promise anything. But I’ll try to keep the history relevant to whatever we do today.” She winks and rises to take the plates and the mugs to the sink. “Give me just a sec to get these washed and we can go.”

It takes a little longer than just a second. Washing the dishes is done in a snap, but she visits the bathroom one last time before sitting on the couch to put on her boots. Darcy also takes a moment to adjust the concealment holster riding inside her jeans above her right butt cheek. She figures she’ll start with it there today and see how it feels with the taser in it before making adjustments. Today’s jeans are looser than yesterday’s, and the design is so sleek and it lies so flat against her body that even with her coat off it’s unlikely anyone would notice a bulge. She practices drawing her weapon and reholstering it a few times before she’s satisfied, and tucks the instruction leaflet in her bag. She still hasn’t had time to read it, though she did skim and made note of how to change the setting. There’s a few different levels, apparently, and the one at the top is marked with what looks like a little hammer crossed with a lightning bolt. She grins to herself. Maybe that one brings the thunder.

She turns to find Robbie eyeing her thoughtfully. “Sorry, pet. It’s just very odd to see someone in my living room practicing drawing a weapon.”

“I feel better with it to hand. At least right now. Plus Pepper and Stark went through all that trouble to get me permission to wear it. I feel like I should, otherwise they’d have done all that for nothing.” She wiggles a bit to get everything settled, prompting a cough from Robbie, but smooths her sweater into place and loops her scarf around her neck. A quick check to make sure she’s got her small wallet in one pocket, with a nice amount of cash, her ID and just a couple of credit cards. Her phone’s in her other pocket, her glasses are in her purse and that’s really all she needs. 

“Shall we?” Robbie opens the door and waves her through, closing and locking it behind them. 

“Do we know where we’re going first?” Darcy bounces down the path to Robbie’s car, and slides in the passenger side when he unlocks it.

“Nah. Knowing James he’s got a whole list already outlined. If, for some reason, all that tequila went to his head and he doesn’t, how do you feel about museums?”

“Love ‘em.”

“I wonder if we should go to the Pitt Rivers. I bet there’s something in there that might relate to your friend with the hammer. Or maybe the Ashmolean. And we can probably do a tour of the Bodleian, maybe even get something behind the scenes. We had a case there once. A body in the Bodleian. First in five hundred years.” Robbie wonders if the woman who’d helped them with the case still works there. James will remember her name. 

“Isn’t there an actual castle here somewhere?” Darcy’s pretty set on the idea of touring all the castles she possibly can while she’s staying in a place that has them. And a palace or two. 

“Ah, yeah! It’s probably crowded, but that might be fun. I haven’t been since they opened it to the public.”

“Well, we don’t need to do everything today. Just a couple of spots will be fine. It’s more the hanging out with you part that I’m really interested in.” Robbie reaches over to pat her knee as they pull up to the curb outside Hathaway’s flat. The younger man has obviously been watching out for them, as he strides up the path to the car just as they stop. Darcy blinks at him for a moment, surprised at just how different the jeans, hoodie, and sneakers make him look before opening the door to let him take the front passenger seat. 

It hasn’t gone unnoticed that she spent a little too long staring thoughtfully at the mug of coffee in Hathaway’s hand. She beams a sunny smile at him in an attempt to distract him long enough to reach for the mug, but he just gives her a flat stare and holds the hand with the coffee in it far above his own head. It’s too high for her to jump and reach, even if she’d give him the satisfaction, which she won’t. Not even Darcy’s best pout and puppy dog eyes will budge him. There’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth but he maintains an otherwise stone cold countenance in the face of the best non-verbal attempts to coerce him into compliance. She considers climbing him like a tree to get to that delicious caffeine for a moment, and she can tell he knows she’s thinking about it when he narrows his eyes at her in a slight but significant threat. In the end she just sniffs scornfully and slides into the backseat. 

Robbie’s looking at the two of them like they’re completely mad, but Hathaway just slides into the front seat and takes a long, loud satisfied slurp from his mug. Darcy can see his stupid, smug eyes beaming a smile at his partner from over the rim of his coffee, and hrmphs out a noise of mournful discontent in response. Robbie looks back and forth between his two younger companions, and opens his mouth to comment, but gives up and just rolls his eyes. Pulling away from the curb, he asks Hathaway, “I’m going to guess that you’ve already planned our day today.”

“Well, sir, I know how much you enjoy dealing with things like online reservations. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of the delights to be found navigating a variety of venue ticketing systems from the comfort of your own home.”

“Where’ve you got us in for, then?”

Hathaway gives in. “Oxford Castle tour first. I figured we could do a late lunch at Malmaison, then walk up the street to the Ashmolean. That’ll take most of the afternoon, and we could pick up some takeaway on the way back to the car and head back to your flat for dinner?”

Robbie nods decisively. “I like it. Darcy?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of the low caffeine level in my blood.” Robbie casts an exasperated look back at her via the rear view mirror. She can’t help grinning in response. “Can I lock Hathaway away in the castle dungeon for not sharing like a gentleman should?”

Another loud, obnoxious slurp is Hathaway’s response to her verbal jab.

Robbie mutters to himself as he brakes for a red light. “This is going to be a long bloody day.”

*****

It’s actually not. The day flies by. The castle tour was interesting. Darcy thought her English friends might be a little jaded at the idea of seeing the castle in what was practically their backyard, but they seem to enjoy themselves. Maybe it was the fact that the property was a prison up until 1996? That has to speak to a cop on some kind of fundamental level.

Hathaway is full of all kinds of knowledge about the English Civil War that he relates to his companions as they wander after the conclusion of their guided tour. He doesn’t go too in depth, but is full of odd little bits of knowledge that can only come from reading a whole huge stack of books on the subject.

“How do you know all this?”

“There’s a re-enactment of one of the skirmishes up where I lived as a kid. They do it every year, and have for some time. I got roped in to help, and ended up answering so many questions from the tourists that I ended up helping rewrite some parts of the script that they’re still using for the guides.” Darcy notices Robbie watching James like a hawk, but Hathaway is calm and thoughtful. Hmm, one of those sore points Robbie’d talked about this morning. 

“Wait, you helped?” Darcy’s eyes light up in glee. “Are we talking full period costume here?”

“Yes, we are and no, there are no surviving pictures.”

“Are you sure? There’s gotta be something online somewhere.” Darcy reaches for her phone.

“No.”

“But!”

“NO.” James gently but firmly plucks the phone from her fingers and passes it over to Robbie. “You can have that back after you promise your cousin that you will not go looking for photos with which to torment me.”

Robbie’s shaking his head at their antics. “Better listen to him. Otherwise all the coffee may disappear from your vicinity some morning when you least expect it.”

Darcy gasps in absolute horrified outrage. The nerve! But it’s not a threat she can ignore, so she grumbles and sighs and generally does her best to act like a scolded five year old before she promises and tucks her phone in her bra where neither of the men is likely to try to take it from her again.

And she can just ask JARVIS to go look later. That’s not doing it herself, right?

They wander about for a bit longer, and she eventually stops in front of the bricks of the Saint George’s Tower. “It’s just so weird. I mean, these stones,” here she gestures at the bricks of the old Norman tower, “Were being put into place like a millennia ago. It’s like three or four times the age of the freakin’ country I’m from.” She glances around her. “It’s just a little weird to think of so many generations of people living and fighting and dying in here. A thousand years of lives.” She pauses. “Plus an Empress. Empress is such a bad ass title.”

“And now parts of it are a hotel,” Hathaway murmurs.

“And a restaurant. Don’t forget the restaurant.” Robbie pats his stomach. “I don’t know about you all but breakfast seems like a long time ago. Time for some lunch?”

They agree, and soon enough they’re seated in the Malmaison brasserie. Darcy argues about paying for lunch until the two men bow to her determination, and at her urging order the most expensive things on the menu. Because they can. She orders a bottle of champagne just to see Hathaway’s eye twitch. “That’s my drink settled. What are you two having?”, and enjoys the hell out of her grilled lobster. Robbie orders a steak and Hathaway, unable to make up his mind between the two, ends up with the strip steak and half a lobster, and thus enjoys both.

“Such fancy food, and they’re still served with French fries.” Darcy grins. “Oh, I’m sorry. ‘Hand cut pommes frites’ with fancy ass dipping sauce on the side.” She snorts. “French. Fries.”

In the end the boys each have a small glass of fizz to help kill the bottle before she uses her shiny new black American Express card for the first time. She taps in her PIN with a flourish, and confides to Robbie on the way out, “I honestly wasn’t sure that was going to work? I mean, I know Pepper said it was fine, and I had plenty of cash to cover it if it wasn’t but still. Weirdly nervewracking!” He just shakes his head at her and offers an elbow. She’s thankful, because they may have helped her kill the bottle but she drank the rest of it on her own, and she’s feeling nearly as relaxed and glowy as she did after last night’s margaritas.

They’re a cheerful trio as they mount the steps to the museum. Robbie asks her to pick a floor number as they enter. “We’ll do just one floor today, because it’s likely to take a while, but also so you have something to look forward to later.”

“I like it. How many floors are there?”

“Basement, ground, and then up to four, though the fourth level mostly just has the restaurant,” Hathaway replies.

“Hmm. Well, let’s go with floor 2 then, and hope I didn’t pick a stinker.” She’s quite pleasantly surprised to find that floor 2 has the “West Meets East” theme. Darcy’s fascinated by all the tapestries. She knits a bit, but can’t imagine the time and patience required to create such amazing, complex textiles. Hathaway is, as anticipated, full of plenty of information about English history, but Darcy’s actually fascinated by Robbie’s knowledge of Italian Renaissance art, of all things. He tells her a bit about his two trips to Italy as they walk through the gallery, and Hathaway ribs him about his weird attraction to opera. 

“You can place the blame for that one squarely on Morse. There is no way to spend that much time in a car with someone, opera blasting away, and not learn a bit about it.” Robbie sighs. “I had to learn to like it or I would’ve gone mad. The man hardly listened to anything else!”

The landscapes prompt a question from Robbie. “James, do you know whatever happened to that art fellow who was so into the clouds? And Shelley?” He explains a bit about that case for Darcy.

“Philip? He actually invited me to a gallery opening about six months ago. He’s selling quite well. Gave me a small watercolour that I expect will be worth a fortune in the not too distant future. Wouldn’t let me pay for it.” Hathaway sighs. “He still misses his friend Nell, but there was another girl there. Amanda, I think her name was? She had him well in hand. He seemed quite happy, really. Free to make his art, and make quite a lot of money doing it. Though I think he cares rather more about the former than the latter.”

Darcy enjoys the hell out of the Ashmolean, and insists on buying a few mugs to take back with her for Jane and Thor and Erik. She picks up some stationary too, and asks Robbie if he knows anywhere she can buy a good fountain pen. Pepper seems like the kind of woman who would appreciate a hand written letter, and Darcy wants to take the time to thank the woman for everything she’s done. 

She takes a few pictures of some things she might order online at a later date, and makes a note of a couple of things she sees Robbie and his partner paying particular interest in. She’s through the cashier in short order and then they’re back out on the street and heading for a coffee shop Hathaway prefers in the area.

It’s been a fantastic day. Which is probably why it all goes to hell shortly after they exit the coffee shop.

Darcy’s not watching where she’s walking. Hathaway’s trying to coax his boss into trying sushi for dinner, and she’s taking a break from her own campaign for seaweed salad, barbecued eel, and maybe a salmon hand roll by making satisfied noises into the lid of her to-go coffee cup as she drinks. She’s so happy to have more hot caffeine in her mouth that she trips over the rough cobblestones in the street and pitches forward. Her clumsiness is the reason why the dart aimed at her misses its intended target and hits Robbie instead. There’s a moment where they all freeze, confused by what’s just happened, before Robbie’s eyes roll back in his head and he hits the ground, his head striking the stone with a sickening crack.

“DARCY— **GET DOWN!** ” She doesn’t hesitate, because that’s Hawkeye’s voice, just grabs Hathaway’s arm and hits the deck. Hathaway covers his partner’s body with his own, and they flinch as a spray of bullets hits the wall where their heads were moments ago. She feels a hot streak of pain on the left side of her head, and nearly faceplants in surprise.

It’s chaos. Whoever is shooting at Darcy has some seriously poor aim, as the glass windows in the coffee shop shatter one after another. Darcy covers her head as glass shards rain down around them. People on the street are screaming and running for cover, and Darcy risks a brief look up to see Hathaway already scanning the street for better cover.

“We’ve got to get our backs to the wall!” he tells her. She nods and at his gesture, she grabs one of Robbie’s arms and, keeping as low as she can, they drag him a few yards down the street.

They don’t get very far, really, before half a dozen black clad forms come tearing around a corner. Three, thankfully, are suddenly bristling with arrow shafts and fall in their tracks, but she and Hathaway have to rise to meet the remaining attackers.

“This. Is so. NOT MY JAM!” she yells into the face of the nearest one reaching for her. Darcy falls back on her self defense lessons and manages to knock what looks like another dart out of the hand of the guy who is doing his best to ruin her day. She whirls around and uses the momentum to whip the bag with the mugs in it right at the head of another guy trying to sneak up behind her, catching him directly in the face. He goes down in a spray of blood from what’s obviously a broken nose, or teeth, or possibly both. 

She can hear Hathaway engaging his own commando, and the sound of another arrow whistling past her ends with a meaty thunk and a groan. Another body hitting the street makes her grin fiercely and she yells in triumph as Hathaway appears behind the guy trying to drug her. Hathaway gets him into a police hold long enough for Darcy to kick her attacker in the balls. His legs go out from under him, and she takes the opportunity to whip out her taser and hit him in the neck with it. He groans in pain, stiffening all over for a moment before going limp, head lolling to the side. Darcy’s not sure if he’s unconscious or dead, and she finds herself hoping it’s actually the latter. 

“Darcy! Over here!” It’s Ian of all people, standing at the mouth of an alley and gesturing urgently at them. 

She and Hathaway exchange a look and he nods. “It’s out of the main street, at least.” She tucks the taser in her front jeans pocket to free up both hands. Working together they manage to get Robbie up and over his partner’s shoulder, and they’re staggering towards safety in moments.

Well, it looked like safety. For all of about five seconds before Ian reaches out and kicks Hathaway in the back of the knee, making him go down in a tangle of limbs with the still unconscious Robbie. Ian wraps an arm around Darcy’s throat, pulling her off balance and back against him in one smooth move, and he brings a gun up and holds it to her head.

“Where’s that taser of yours, you little bitch?” He viciously grinds the barrel of the gun into her temple.

“I dropped it. I dropped it! I swear!” She’s not faking the high note of panic in her voice.

“Good. You won’t need it where you’re going.” The sound of the gun being cocked is very loud, since it’s right next to her ear. She can see James untangling himself from his partner and rising to his feet a few feet away.

“What? Where am I going? Why are you doing this?!” Darcy’s doing her best to buy them some time and distract the guy with the gun.

“You’ll find out soon enough. It’s nothing personal, really. You’re not my type and my employers are far more interested in what’s in your head than in your pants. Well, probably.” She can’t help but shudder at the implication and he chuckles nastily in her ear. “It’s time to go. Say night night to your friend.” It’s a relief to have the gun away from her head but her heart nearly stops as it swings around to point directly at Hathaway.

“Wait! Can I ask you something?” 

“As long as you do it while I’m taking care of this one. Oh, and say goodbye to the old man too. He’s next.” Ian’s grip on her loosens as he concentrates on taking aim at Hathaway. She wriggles around, mostly for show, but he’s confident he has the situation under control. It’s just enough for her to slip her hand in her pocket and extract the taser she most definitely did NOT drop. 

Flipping the weapon around in her hand, she shoves it as far into the meat of his thigh as she can and pulls the trigger. “Why do the bad guys always feel the need to fucking _monologue_?!” The sound of the gun going off right next to her ear nearly deafens her, and her heart almost stops when she sees Hathaway stagger and go down. “You ASSHOLE!” she bellows, knocking the arm with the gun in it away from her, then smoothly turning and jabbing the taser into Ian’s sternum and pulling the trigger again and again.

Ian goes down like a sack of bricks, twitching spasmodically. Darcy plucks the gun out of his hand, flips the safety on and dashes over to her friends. 

“You know, I’ve never understood that either?” Hathaway’s voice is strong, and Darcy nearly sobs in relief. He’s got a hand around the bullet hole in his arm, and she sets the gun down next to him while she goes to unwrap the scarf from around her neck. It’ll do for a makeshift bandage until they can get some help.

“Understood what?” 

“The monologuing. It’s like they’ve never seen a stereotypical action movie in their entire lives. Which I just can’t believe. Who turns to a life of crime like that without having done their research first?” He winces as she ties the scarf tight enough to keep pressure on the wound without making it into a full on tourniquet.

“The same kind of idiot who turns to a life of crime in the first place.” She slips a hand under his chin so she can look at his face. “All right? You’re looking a little shocky.”

“Well, I’ve been shot. A minor inconvenience, to be sure, but a significant one.”

She grins. He’s fine if he’s still snarking at her. “Here, take the gun, and let’s get behind something. Hawkeye’s out there somewhere, and I’m sure he’ll find us soon.”

He nods and she gives him a hand up. Robbie’s still out like a light, and she’s beginning to get really worried. What was in that dart? She and James take one of Robbie’s arms each and once again drag him into the dubious shelter of a dumpster that’s there. Those clothes of his are never going to be the same after being so up close and personal with a fair number of Oxford’s cobblestones. 

Against all odds, she can hear Ian stirring behind them. “You fucking _bitch_ ,” he slurs, and she and James move faster. They’ve just managed to duck behind the dumpster when a popping sound reverberates in the air around them. They duck low, and Darcy doesn’t want to think about what’s causing the wet, spattering sound she can hear in the aftermath.

Heavy footsteps echo against the stones of the nook that they’ve tucked themselves into. Hathaway is breathing hard, one hand clenched tight against the bullet wound in his other arm, and he’s pale as a sheet. He goes to stand, but his legs crumple under him and he sprawls back against the brick.

Darcy glares at him, and he nods, eyes closing and accepting that he’s not going to be of much further assistance. He does take up a protective posture over his partner though, gun clutched in a blood stained hand, so at least someone will be watching out for Robbie. She can hear sirens in the distance, coming closer and she sends up a prayer of thanks to Hawkeye for calling for backup.

The soft scuff of a boot reminds her that while there’s help on the way, she’s the only one left on her feet. And by god she’ll go out fighting. She checks the taser, not knowing how many more charges she has left. Darcy shrugs and nudges it all the way up to what she’s privately deemed the “hammer time” setting and crouches on the balls of her feet. Based on the shadow she can see against the ground, the man approaching is really fucking huge. He might not be expecting an attack from down low.

And then she’s out of time. Whoever it is has gotten close enough that he can see Hathaway and Robbie against the wall, and the thought of further harm to either of her new friends is unacceptable. She attacks, lunging for where she thinks the man’s crotch is likely to be and hits the trigger on the taser.

The agonized bellow nearly deafens her, and she manages to jump back and out of the way before her would be attacker falls to his knees. The sound of metal hitting stone and cracking it rings sharply against the walls of their sanctuary, and she trips as she scrambles away, landing on her ass and crabwalking backward in a desperate attempt to put some distance between herself and her victim.

A victim who is really, really familiar. “THOR?!”

The blond demigod on his knees is cupping his crotch and making some really interesting noises, but he raises his face and chokes out, “Darcy?” Oh. So that’s what that setting does. It’s the “take down Thor” level.

The sound of more footsteps has her whirling around, taser held ready. But thankfully this time it’s only Hawkeye. “We’re clear. Are you okay? Wait, is that Thor? Dude, what happened to you?”

“I must have words with Stark about the weapons issued to my lightning sister,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

“She got you right in the nuts, didn’t she? Aww, Darce, I’m so proud of you!” Barton holds out his arms for a hug but takes a step back at the wild look in her eyes and the sight of her finger twitching on the taser trigger.

“If you lot are through, I’d really appreciate not bleeding to death behind one of my favourite coffee shops.” Hathaway is also speaking from behind gritted teeth. 

Hawkeye edges past Darcy, though he tosses a comment at her over his shoulder. “Is he always this dramatic? For a police officer you’ve got a very provincial attitude towards guns.”

“Most of us in this country don’t live the kind of life that lends itself to getting shot at very often.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” 

James sneers at the archer. “I think your definition of ‘fun’ could use a little adjustment.”

Barton kneels to examine the younger detective. “Looks like a through and through, and didn’t hit anything major. Not gonna lie, it’s going to hurt like a bitch healing. But it’ll leave a nice scar. Chicks dig scars.”

Hathaway’s got enough sass left in him to roll his eyes at Hawkeye, and Darcy’s glad to see it. Yeah, he’ll be fine. Hawkeye moves over to check on Robbie, who’s showing signs of regaining consciousness.

Darcy finally lowers her taser as it looks like Barton’s got everything under control. She can hear cars screeching to a halt and really hopes that at least one ambulance is with them. “Where’s Ian?” She really hopes that the taser has at least one more charge left in it because she’s going to nail him in the balls as soon as she sees him.

Hawkeye waves at the SHIELD personnel. “Over here! We’ve got two men down.” He turns to Darcy and his eyes go steely. “You will never have to worry about Ian Boothby ever again.”

Darcy steps closer so she can peer up into his face. “Why? Tell me straight, Clint. Otherwise he’s going to be in my head, and I don’t want… I don’t want to be waiting for him to come around another corner.”

Clint stares at her for a moment, then nods. “I put an explosive arrow through his eye socket. There’s not enough left of his head to piece back together.” He reaches out and pulls her in for a one-armed hug. “He’s gone, Darcy. I promise.” 

“That is good to hear.” Thor’s back on his feet. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt, which would explain how Darcy was able to take him down. She’s pretty sure his armor normally has protection over the, ah, most vulnerable bits and pieces. “I came as soon as the Hawk let me know you were in danger. If he had not taken care of the traitorous Boothby, rest assured I would have.” He steps closer and rests a hand on Darcy’s cheek. She notes that his sheer bulk blocks her view of the other end of the alley, where Ian’s body lies. Knowing Thor he’s done it deliberately to spare her the sight. “You are as family to me. He would have paid for his treachery with his life, one way or another.”

Darcy takes a moment to absorb the information. And to mourn for the part of herself that probably, a few years ago, have regretted the taking of a human life on her behalf. But there’s been too many crazy ass situations and way too much danger for her to remain so naive. Her imagination is quite active, and she’s got a pretty good idea of what was likely in store for her if whoever was behind this abduction attempt had gotten her. It might be brutal, but if it came down to a choice between herself and someone sent to get close to the Avengers? She’s glad she’s the one still standing.

“Clint?” He’s been talking to one of the SHIELD personnel, but returns his attention to her. “Thanks.”

He gives her one last squeeze along with a smile. “No problem, Sparky. Know that there’s going to be some training in your near future though. For Jane too. We’ve been holding off on them for a bit while you recover from Greenwich, but I don’t think we have that luxury any longer.”

She nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thor, you got her from here? I gotta go coordinate the scene. Keep an eye on all three of them for me.” Clint places a smacking kiss on Darcy’s hair, then releases her and strides over to a knot of serious looking men and women in blue and black tactical gear.

Robbie’s placed on a stretcher and Hathaway’s on his feet against the protests of the medics that have swarmed both of them. “Look, I’m not leaving him so you can do whatever you need to do in the ambulance on the way, all right? He’s my partner. Where are we going?” The paramedic who’s cutting the sleeve off his hoodie replies absently with the name of the hospital. “Right. I’d really prefer if we all stay together as much as possible. I want these two in a car following that ambulance.”

Thor nods. “One moment while I speak with Hawkeye. He will see to it that we are not separated.” He gives Darcy’s hand a gentle squeeze and strides towards Hawkeye, scooping up Mjolnir from where it’s been resting along the way. Darcy doubts anyone is going to argue with the man carrying a war hammer.

Darcy and James regard each other silently for a moment. “This is getting to be a habit, English.”

“Perhaps we can ask your friend there for specialized armour to wear underneath our regular clothes whenever you visit.” James quirks a small smile at her. “Think your friends can arrange some replacements? This is the second piece of clothing I’ve ruined in your presence. You’re hell on my wardrobe budget, Ms. Lewis.”

“And I’m not even trying to get you out of your clothes,” she replies absently. Now that the adrenaline is fading, various aches and pains are making themselves known. Especially her head. She absently reaches up to pull her black beanie off and tuck her hair behind her ear, and hisses in pain and surprise.

“Ms. Lewis? Are you all right?” Hathaway takes a step closer to her, the medic scolding him the whole way.

“Yeah, I just…there’s something….” Darcy pulls her hand back from where she’s run it through her hair, and blinks at the deep red smear across it. “Uh, that can’t be good.” She turns her hand to face Hathaway, who inhales sharply. He steps closer and blinks as a trickle of blood streams down her temple. 

“Ma’am? Don’t move.” The medic who was working on Hathaway steps close to Darcy. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Uh, there was shooting and then there was this weird hot streak of pain, but the pain didn’t last long and then there was all this glass shattering. And I figured it was just, you know, flying glass or something.” Man, her head is really throbbing now. Darcy swallows, suddenly queasy.

“Sorry, ma’am, but that’s a bullet crease.” The medic is waving her partner over now, and takes a moment to change her gloves, stripping off the pair covered in Hathaway’s blood and pulling on a fresh pair.

“What?” Darcy says, faintly. Hathaway’s standing on her other side now, grasping her arm with his good one. When did he move? He was over there just a second ago.

“Let’s get you sitting down, okay?”

“Darcy!” Thor is running back towards her now. He skids to a stop, takes a knee and guides Darcy down to sit on his thigh. “You are wounded! Why did you not say something?”

“Uh, I didn’t know?” She flinches as the medic’s partner probes at the side of her throbbing head. “Hey, hamfists, could you be a little more gentle?” Darcy can feel the rumble of Thor’s unhappy growl everywhere. Absently she wonders if she sticks a few quarters in him how long he might continue to vibrate. Better than one of those mattresses at cheap hotels out West. “Easy Big Guy. They’re just trying to… OW! …help.”

“Looks like it’s shallow, but you definitely need to have it looked at immediately.” Darcy grits her teeth and clings to Thor’s hand as the medic does whatever they need to do before they’ll let her go. “We can take you in the ambulance? It’ll be a tight fit, and this one,” here she indicates Thor, “would have to stay behind, but since only one of you needs the stretcher we can do it.”

“Nay, the Lady Darcy shall remain with me. There is transport waiting to take us wherever we need to go.” Thor doesn’t bother letting Darcy get to her feet. He merely scoops her into his arms as though she weighs nothing, which is a hell of a boost to her ego. “Sergeant, let us proceed to the house of healing now.”

Hathaway nods, then turns and climbs into the back of the ambulance, sliding along the bench until he can see his partner’s face. Robbie appears to be awake and answering questions from the other medic at this point, and she’s relieved to see it. 

“All right. Keep pressure on the dressing and follow us.” Thor nods and strides off towards the car idling at the curb. SHIELD and the local station have been very efficient at securing the scene. Darcy’s got one hand on the bandage on her head, and hopes she can keep her stomach from emptying itself all over Thor on the drive to the hospital. 

“Thor?”

“Yes, Darcy?”

“I’m sorry I tased you in your manparts.”

“It was but a glancing blow. I am fine.” He looks down at her with deep affection. “I am glad to know that you are able to defend yourself in an emergency.”

“Yeah, well, let’s maybe avoid the emergencies and update my ‘list of things to avoid’ to include ‘getting shot in the head’.” She frowns. “Driver? Pull over for a moment, please. I gotta barf.”

Thor, sweetheart that he is, is great about holding her hair back as she empties her stomach into the gutter. She’s feeling more than hearing his voice at this point. The pain in her head is really intense, and now it’s worse from the vomiting, and she’s shivering. Darcy wishes she wasn’t quite so familiar with the symptoms of shock, but just hangs on as someone gently wipes her mouth with some tissues provided by the driver, and Thor bundles her back into his arms as they resume their journey. She sort of fades out for a little bit, trusting her godly friend to let her know if she needs to pay attention. 

She’s awfully glad when they get to A&E, where Thor carries her in rather than wait for anyone with a gurney. A nice person gives her a lovely shot of something to dull the overall throbbing in her skull. Darcy’s not sure if it’s supposed to put her completely out, but the last thing feels for a while is the warmth of Thor’s hand holding her own, and hearing Thor saying, “Rest now, my friend. You are safe.”

*****

An annoying, steady beeping brings her floating up to the surface of consciousness. Before she opens her eyes, she takes a moment to do a status check on herself. The fact that she needs to do this every morning for the last little while is a bit worrying.

Head? There’s a nice, thick layer of drugs between her and the pain she can feel pulsing under the pharmaceuticals, but it’s manageable at the moment. 

Body? She can feel bruises making themselves known all over, and the sting from a number of cuts that she probably got from all the flying glass. Her neck hurts a bit from where Ian had gripped her. And her damn feet still hurt, even though she was wearing her Docs. 

Heart? Here she pauses for a moment. 

She’s really glad no one she cares deeply about got hurt. Jane, Thor, hell even Clint, are fine. Robbie and Hathaway are also all right, and while she knows dealing with potentially dangerous situations is literally part of their job description, she can’t help but feel guilty about getting them involved in this mess.

“I can see you blaming yourself, lass, and you should stop. This isn’t your fault.” Wait, Robbie’s awake? Darcy cautiously cracks an eye, and when it doesn’t immediately make the pain in her head worse, she opens both eyes fully. Robbie’s sitting on one side of the bed along with an exhausted looking Hathaway. Thor is on the other side, and Jane’s perched at Darcy’s feet.

Wait, Jane? “When did you get here?!” she croaks at Jane.

“A little bit ago. You were still out, which was probably a good idea since you got _shot in the head_. God damn it, Darcy!” Jane’s obviously been holding her tongue for some time.

“I only got shot a little bit!” Darcy really feels that this is an important point to make.

Robbie winces as Jane’s voice gets louder as she continues ranting a little. Thor notices and reaches out to Jane. “Perhaps we can continue at another time? While I enjoy your dulcet tones no matter how your words are delivered, I think that our companions might prefer hearing your wisdom when they are able to fully appreciate it.”

Everyone pauses for a moment. “Jane, if you don’t nail that man’s ass down, I’m going to steal him from you. That was the nicest ‘darling, please shut the fuck up’ I think I’ve ever heard.” Darcy’s impressed. Only Thor could pull that off. 

“Was that not what I said? Ah, the Allspeak. It may have issues with the finer nuances of language at times.” 

Darcy carefully moves her head just enough and yep. There’s the sassy twinkle she expected. “You are so full of shit your eyes should be brown.” 

Thor booms out a laugh that rattles the windows. Oops? She winces, and notices Robbie does as well. 

“It is good to see you awake once more, Darcy. Jane was quite worried.” Thor pats her hand gently for one with such enormous mitts himself.

Hathaway smoothly interrupts before Jane can start ranting again. “How are you feeling Ms. Lewis?”

“Like Satan is tapdancing on my skull in hobnail shoes.” Darcy gingerly pushes herself up to a sitting position. “You two? Any issues with the arm? And Robbie, how are you doing?”

“We’re fine, pet. I’m reliably told I’ve got a ‘skull like an anvil’, so it’s only a very mild concussion.” Robbie does look mostly all right, just a bit of blood on the collar of his shirt and an ever so slightly glazed look in his eye. “And whatever they used as a sedative seemed to flush from my system pretty quickly. Barton there thinks the dose was calibrated for you, so it cleared my system faster.”

He frowns down at her. “You, on the other hand, should’ve told us you were injured. You’ve got a few stitches holding that bullet crease together. It could’ve been a whole lot worse.”

Darcy turns to look at Hathaway, completely ignoring that last bit because she’s just not ready to deal with the idea that she’s been shot. In the head. Shot in the _head_. Fucking Ian. “And you?”

“Could be worse. At least I’ve been shot in this arm before? They could’ve gotten my dominant arm, and then where would this one be?” Hathaway jerks a thumb at his partner. “The pain of watching him slowly peck out all our reports more slowly with both hands than I can usually manage with just one would hurt far more than a mere bullet wound.”

“Oi, I’m not that bad!” Robbie looks mighty offended. Darcy would giggle, but she’s pretty sure that would make her head worse so she settles for smiling. Hathaway just looks at his boss pityingly.

“And in the back? Who are you?” Jane nearly topples off the bed in surprise, and Robbie and Hathaway both turn swiftly, not having noticed the woman standing there. Thor hasn’t reacted, which is interesting.

“Ms. Lewis. I’m Natalie Rushman, special assistant to Ms. Potts.” The newcomer is an absolutely stunning redheaded woman wearing an elegant and perfectly tailored pantsuit. “She was quite concerned when she heard what happened from Mr. Stark. I was in London on business anyway, as I work closely with our Legal department there, and she asked me to check in and provide assistance where I am able.”

“Uh huh.” Darcy may be drugged to the gills, but there’s something off about this situation. She watches as Natalie shakes hands with Jane, Robbie and Hathaway and she can tell both men have noticed something off about her as well. Natalie, Natalie. Why does she know that name?

“Hey, where’s Barton?”

“Here, Sparky.” Clint has also entered the room, doing his silent assassin thing he does so well. If she ever ends up sleeping in the same place as he is, she’s totally going to have to put a bell on him. And will you look at that. Neither Thor _nor_ ‘Natalie’ reacted to him materializing out of nowhere. Ms. Rushman is definitely not who she claims to be.

Darcy puts those thoughts on the backburner as she tests her physical state. “Right. I hate hospitals. Can we go now?”

“Let me grab a doctor to check you over now that you’re awake.” Natalie nods at her and goes to find a doctor.

Hathaway and Robbie have watched her leave. “Observations?” Darcy asks.

“She doesn’t move like anyone I’ve ever seen from Legal,” Robbie muses. “More like a gymnast or a dancer.”

Hathaway chimes in. “And I would swear that the callouses on her hands are from working with weapons, probably handguns.”

Darcy nods, and turns her attention to the two identified Avengers in the room. Thor stares back at her cheerfully. Barton’s rubbing the back of his neck. “Add the red hair and the fact that you two didn’t react to her at all? Barton didn’t even try to hit on her, which is a miracle. I’m guessing her name isn’t really Natalie Rushman.”

Clint sighs. “Coulson was totally right about you. No, it’s not and yes, she is who you think she is but it’s just easier if you think of her as Natalie, okay?”

Hathaway blinks rapidly a few times, the only outward sign of his shock. “Did I mention I’m an arachnophobe?”

Robbie chuckles and pats his arm. “Sergeant, I think even you might get over your fear of spiders for that one.”

“Why am I the only one in the room with three PhDs and no clue what you’re talking about?” Jane is looking vexed. 

Thor smiles, leans in and whispers remarkably quietly to Jane. 

“OH! Really? Wow.”

Natalie returns with a doctor in tow. She takes one look around the room, then sighs and reaches out and slaps Clint upside the head. “What?! It’s not my fault!” He points to two of Oxfordshire’s finest. “Trained detectives.” He points at Darcy. “Whatever the hell that is.” 

“Hey!” Darcy protests, but it’s mild. The doctor ignores all the shenanigans in the room and crosses to Darcy’s side. He does a few checks, asks a few questions and nods in a few places. Scribbling a few notes on her chart, he asks the room at large if there’s anyone who’s willing to stay with her for at least forty-eight hours to monitor her in case there are any complications. Half a dozen voices ring out in affirmation, and she can’t help the warm little glow of happiness that takes up residence in her ribcage.

“Right, well. Try not to get shot again Ms. Lewis. You’re free to go when you’re ready, and you can gently wash your hair when you get home, but if possible keep the stitches dry until your next appointment.” He holds out a prescription for painkillers. Darcy accepts with a sigh, and as soon as the doctor’s left the room Natalie plucks it from her fingers. “I’ll take care of getting this filled. Gentlemen, I assume you have some too? Shall I get those ready as well?”

Robbie and Hathaway shrug and hand over their pieces of paper. “Right, so. Here’s the plan. I’m going to take Thor, Darcy and Jane to their house in Cambridge where we’ll rest and recover for a couple of days. Barton will take Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Hathaway back to Lewis’ flat and pick up your bags, Darcy, if that’s okay?”

Darcy nods. It makes sense, though she’s pretty upset that her visit to Oxford is being cut short. “Clint will bring your things back here before we head off for Cambridge.” He nods at Natalie and with a smile at Darcy, leaves to go bring the car around.

“I have no idea what we’re going to tell Innocent about all this.” Robbie sighs.

“Actually, SHIELD has taken care of that for you. She’s been told it’s a matter of international security, and any further inquires will not be tolerated.” Natalie is very matter of fact, but both the men wince. “That said, should you choose to fill her in at any point in time, you are authorized to give her some details. The details have been pushed to the tablets I believe Darcy gave you earlier this week.”

That has the two of them relaxing a bit. If they can give her at least a little something they’re likely to walk out of her office with their hides only lightly chewed.

“SHIELD will debrief all of you when you’re feeling better. Barton will go ahead and stay here in Oxford for a few days not only to get your statements, gentlemen, but to keep an eye out for anyone who may be lingering. Darcy, I’ll take yours once you’ve had a chance to rest a bit. Any questions?”

Robbie pipes up. “When can she return? I mean, I was just about to agree to giving sushi a try after all. She waits too long to come back and and she’ll miss her window of opportunity to get a picture of me trying raw fish.”

“Yes, please don’t make me have to explain to his daughter on why she’s missed out on seeing that picture,” Hathaway chimes in with his silly, quirky little smile.

“Like you don’t want to watch him deal with the pickled ginger,” Darcy scoffs, doing her best to cover the fact that her eyes are watering a bit. She can’t believe they want her to come back after all this. 

“I’m sure it won’t be too long. But let’s maybe wait a little bit and let the waters calm. Plus there’s a lot of work to be done now that you’ll be based out of Cambridge.” Darcy’s about to ask when the hell they moved to Cambridge and why didn’t anyone tell her, but Natalie stands smoothly and smiles at the two men. “I think Clint’s probably brought the car around by now. Shall we pick up your meds on the way?”

“James, do you mind dealing with those? Everyone, give me a moment with Darcy, yeah?” James agrees and nods farewell at Darcy. Jane and Thor shuffle out behind Natalie and Hathaway. Darcy swings her legs over the side of the bed and is glad to see that she’s still got her jeans on at least.

“Are you really okay?” Robbie gently holds her elbow as she wobbles to her feet, wincing at the renewed throbbing in her head. 

“Well, right now I’m sort of numb. I can’t believe someone I kissed just over a week ago held a gun to my head and was going to kill both of you in cold blood. I’m trying hard not to think about the fact that I’m known to some mysterious people who want to do me grievous bodily harm and that’s all on top of, you know, the alien invasion. There are three out of six Avengers watching over me and Jane, which is alarming on an entirely new ‘oh sweet baby Jesus’ level.” She sighs and moves forward for a hug. “And you got hurt because of me,” she mumbles into his chest. “Hathaway got shot because of me. This is like my worst nightmare come true.”

Robbie doesn’t dismiss her concerns, just holds her close for a bit, rubbing her back comfortingly. “It’s not your fault, and I’ll keep telling you that as often as I need to until you believe it. James and I are used to the possibility of getting hurt. It’s a part of our jobs.”

“Yeah, but this wasn’t a part of your job. It was a personal thing.” She forces out the next part though her throat’s gone tight. “A family thing.”

He loosens his hold on her long enough to tip her head up so he can catch her eye. “And nothing that happened here today is going to change that. All right? I cared about you before we got shot at, and I care about you now. Nothing’s changed, aside from the fact that Hathaway has a new scar with which to impress potential dates, you’ve lost a tiny amount of hair and, well, your gift shop purchases, and I have a few extra days off of work to laze around and watch bad telly.”

She peers up into his face, searching for any sign that he’s not sincere. But all she can see is a blazing sincerity and the sort of fondness she’s not used to seeing in anyone’s eyes except her late grandmother and occasionally Jane. “You mean that.”

“I do.” It’s a vow and a promise, sealed with a light press of lips to her hair and another lingering hug.

“Cambridge isn’t that far away after all. I can come and get you if I need to. Hell, maybe I’ll drag James along and he can give you a tour of things only someone who went to college there would know. Oh, I know. Maybe we can get him to take us out on one of the punts. We’ll call it physio for his arm once he’s healed enough.”

Darcy giggles and wipes at her eyes. “Cambridge. God. Knowing Jane she’s agreed to do research with Stephen Hawking or something. I’ll call you when we get settled and give you as many details as they’ll let me.” She thinks for a moment. “Want to come and look at flats with me there? I mean, they’ll probably have to be SHIELD approved, but I think Jane and Thor deserve a space of their own. We’ll be in each others pockets all the time anyway with work, and it’d be good for me to have a place of my own away from the lovebirds.”

“Absolutely. I’ll bring James, we’ll make a day of it.”

“And hopefully this time it won’t end in bullets and death.” She sighs, gloomily.

“None of that, lass. We’re all alive, we’ll see each other soon, and I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.” 

Natalie sticks her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but Clint’s ready if you are, Inspector.”

Robbie gives her one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before picking up his coat. “Take care, Darcy.”

“Bye, Robbie. Until next time. Give Monty a smooch for me.” Darcy sighs and sits back down on the bed once he’s left. Jane returns to help her get her bra and shoes on. Her sweater was covered in blood and has probably been taken away as evidence, and since she doesn’t want to ruin any of her other clothes she’ll just wear the scrub top to wherever they’re headed.

“I couldn’t even go seventy-two hours before there was a disaster, Jane. What the hell have our lives become?”

“Oh Darcy, sweetie. It’s not your fault. If anything it’s mine. I’m the one who found Thor, who’s been working on the Bifrost….” Jane picks at a loose thread on the blanket. “If you wanted to leave and get away from all this craziness I would understand.”

Darcy lightly socks Jane in the arm. “Please. You’d be lost without me and you know it.” Darcy stands and tests her balance. So far, so good. Gathering her purse, she checks to make sure her phone and her taser are in it before removing her sunglasses and slipping them on. She slowly makes her way to the door with Jane’s support. “Besides. We appear to be down an intern. You’re stuck with little old me now.”

The women grin at each other and nod to Natalie, who’s holding the door to the private room open. “Ladies. All set?”

Darcy’s off to another new city, and likely more adventures, but she’s got some roots in Oxford now, and will be dreaming of the spires and her new friends until her return.

“Let’s roll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, please do leave a comment. It helps to know that someone's reading.
> 
> Don't worry, there's more to come! :)


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